Once Bound
by RogueShadowDancer
Summary: Back from being only given two choices about her sentence, Cirié returns to Neverwinter a free Elven woman from her shackles, and plans for dealing with a spot of business back home within Waterdeep. With a general sour attitude, and low tolerance, Cirié will find herself in unfortunate situations. New and familiar faces will be met along the way. Story progression by 1d20.
1. Cirié

**Chapter One: Cirié**

A gentle breeze graced the waters, and the docks had been bustling with both workers and fishermen. Some of these people had been getting ready for the rest of the day, and others had been switching shifts between their fellow sailor or worker. However, it could not have been denied that there was a larger commotion that happened among the other common folk that had been gathered around the docks for reasons different.

The sighting of one of the familiar ships had been announced, and the wait had been over for many. As the ship had pulled in, excited chatter rose from the people that had come to see who was back, and who had fallen. Despite all the happy faces, there were those that were uncertain and some that were even worried for the news to come.

"Clear the docks!" a raspy voice had shouted, and more of the ship hands and dock hands had been ready for work. Overall, common folk had moved back, and there had been way made for the gangway that was to be settled from the ship to the docking point.

CRRRK—THUD!

Once the gangway had been lowered, a decorated official had rose, looking upon those that gathered and then momentarily looking back to the knights, battle mages, clerics, and other individuals that he had at his command. Pursing his lips for a mere moment, he composed himself and then gone to address those that had gathered now that they had started to silence themselves.

"Hear me, people of Neverwinter! We return victorious over those within Athkatla territories, and have come to the agreement of our two nations becoming more of a community rather than two sides fighting a never ending battle. We return to you today so that we may celebrate those that come back, and to mourn those that we have lost. Though, mark my words that this is the start of a new era in which Neverwinter and Athkatla must no longer be enemies, but come to a mutual understanding of one another so that blood no longer has to be shed between nations!"

A murmur had swept across those that were within the crowd, and there were even some outcries from those that felt indignant toward this announcement. This only resulted in the Knight Captain to close his eyes in thought and frown. As soon as he had collected his thoughts, he had spoken once more.

"I know that this is not something that those of Neverwinter and those allied with us wish to hear… I know that Neverwinter and Athkatla have their differences and I know that many of you have the absolute right to be angry. From Lord Nasher himself, we cannot allow our anger and the events of the past to cloud our judgements. We should only find the good in our hearts to carry on and build a better future for all of us. We should be thankful for those of us that return, and hope that our future requires no more sacrifice. Now please, allow for your sons and daughters, your wives and husbands to return to you… to celebrate with you, and to be happy with you in this time."

"Tch…" a woman of Elven stature and appearance had shaken her head before she had gathered up her supplies and slung her bag over her shoulder. It was obvious enough that she wanted little to do with the others that were upon the ship – even her armour and clothing had hinted that she was of… different abilities than those that she travelled with. However, it seemed that there was little in the way of hostilities toward this particular woman that donned the dark leathers of a conniving little rogue.

Lining up with the others, she had removed stray locks of ash brown hair from her face, and had done well to biting her tongue for now. At this time, she only had but one thing on her mind… and that was to get back to the Sunken Flagon, the inn that was not even a few moments travel from the docks.

Once this woman had been able to enter into the Flagon, she was greeted by warm air and the sight of a rather empty looking building. There was only the bald man in the back at the bar, cleaning mugs and getting some things set up. Upon further inspection, there were only one or two patrons that looked as if they cared not for whatever excitement that had been going on at the docks.

Removing the hood from her person, the Elven woman had disrobed the cloak from her shoulders before carelessly tossing it upon the back of a chair and then plopping down into the next one with an exasperated sigh to the events. Rubbing at her forehead to quell her thoughts, it was then that she seemed to have caught the attention of the barkeeper of the building.

"Well then, if it isn't our little Cici. Finally back from the war with Athkatla, are you?" the bartender had asked, quickly taking up one of the clean flagons and filling it up with ale.

"I thought I asked of you to not call me that, Sal. It's not like I'm a child anymore; I really would just prefer it if you called me Cirié – like my mother had named me," the Elven woman, now revealed as Cirié, had said to the man. The response, however, had elicited a chuckle from the man named Sal, and he made his way over to the table, soon setting the flagon down upon the surface.

"Some habits are just hard to get rid of, lass. Have one on the house – and I'm sure that your uncle will be pleased to see that you're back from Athkatla – and from the looks of it, without a scratch. You certainly carry yourself like your father before you, I'll give you that," Sal had gone on to say, a slight smile upon his lips as he seemed to look around.

"Speaking of my uncle… where is he exactly?" Cirié had asked, sitting up straight in the chair and looking to the taller Human.

"Mm… I believe that he actually is taking care of some of the ledgers and also a new guest that he had carried here. The man looked like a mess; that's all I really know," Sal responded, looking pensive whilst rubbing at his chin in thought. "I would do my best not to disturb your uncle if he's with that injured patron. The man seems to have a mouth on him that a sailor would envy. Though, he might just be able to match sarcasm and sharp words with you. Just be careful should you decide you want to provoke our injured guest."

"Tch… people that have to remain under care happen to bore me, thankfully enough. I'll just wait for my uncle to get done with whatever it is and greet him then—"

As if on cue, the door that led to the building's rooms had swung open. Another Elven man had made his appearance, and he seemed to have been wiping away at some blood that was smeared upon his hands and clothing. The sight was a little shocking, though Cirié furrowed her brow and had attempted to steel herself. However, the first words to come from her mouth were, "Hells, I come back from a battlefield, and you look worse than I ever did. What exactly happened, Uncle Duncan?"

As if frozen for just a moment, the Elven man had raised his brow as his eyes fell upon the Elven woman that stood there within the dining area. A smile quickly formed upon his lips as he strode forward and offered a familial hug to Cirié. Even despite all the blood and whatnot, Cirié had hesitantly returned the gesture before offering a faint smile of her own.

"Though… I have to admit; even with months behind me and the time going by, I did miss you, mother and father," Cirié said, attempting to disregard her uncle's appearance if only for a moment. "However, you never did answer my question, Uncle. I mean, Sal did brief me on the fact that there was an injured individual here, though there was not more than that."

"I'll have to get a courier to deliver a message to your parents and sibling in Waterdeep. They will be overjoyed to hear of your arrival," Duncan had said, wiping his hands upon the apron he donned. This only caused Cirié to look a little disappointed, though the woman quickly blew a few stray locks from her face once more before attempting to disregard it.

Noting the look upon Cirié's face, it seemed that Duncan only really looked to Sal for a moment before nodding him off back toward the bar to resume his work. Motioning for his niece, Duncan had lead her back toward the lodging of the Sunken Flagon and then had promptly closed the door behind him to deter any listening ears.

"The reason I must keep this quiet is because of the events surrounding our… guest, as it were," Duncan started to say, lowering his voice to a whisper as his expression turned stern when looking into Cirié's eyes. "And you must promise me not to overreact to what you're about to hear, because after coming back from the Athkatla territories, I'm sure what I am about to utter is the last thing you need to hear – especially from kin. However, no matter what the circustances are now, you are to remain level-headed and calm – if you feel that you cannot handle the news, you are free to make your trip promptly to Waterdeep on your own."

"Must you sound so severe so soon, Uncle? I'm sure that what you have to say isn't that bad… not unless you were harbouring some fugitive that just committed homicide over the town – in which case, I would only ask if it were justified. Though in most cases, it generally isn't, so please end the dramatics and allow me some insight to this… visitor, I suppose," Cirié replied, her voice sounding bored – though this was likely a reflection as to how she felt with all the beating around the bush.

"Very well, Cirié, but do not say I did not warn you," Duncan replied, standing up straight and regaining a certain composure. "While you are here, you have the full right to know that I am taking care of who seems to be a ranger from the Luskan border. However, that is all I am obligated to tell you at this time, Cirié. Just as long as we're clear on this, I wish of you to not react violently toward the man – even despite him donning some of the armours you would rather see broken and bloodied."

"…" Cirié seemed to have furrowed her brow at the news, though quickly turned away from Duncan as she had started for the end of the hall where one of the textured windows allowed for light to illuminate the narrow passageway. Before long, she had simply crossed her arms before leaning against the wall. There was a scoff that escaped the Elven woman's lips, and she had shaken her head in what appeared to have been disbelief.

"A man from the Luskan border, huh? After all the strife and dealings with them, you find it in your heart to actually help this… good for nothing just because he was a hair's breadth from death?" Cirié asked, her voice dripping with a certain kind of venom to her words. It was clear enough that she was not impressed by her Uncle's decisions, and had been able to vocalise it without shouting as she so wished to have done.

"Just because we have differences with those that reside in Luskan does not mean that we should turn our backs on those that are defenceless, Cirié," Duncan had quickly retorted. It seemed that he had more to say on the issue, though he had quickly bit back his words before giving a sigh to calm himself. "You need not interact with him if you do not wish, though I felt it necessary to tell you of the events transpiring here should you wish to stay now that you are back from your duties within the Neverwinter army. I'd rather not have needless violence springing out within my lodge."

"It wasn't a duty; I was coerced into helping those near worthless men and women thanks to Axle's half-assed way of dealing with certain things. Now that it's over, I leave the Neverwinter service as a free woman with no shackles.

"In any case, there is still that truce between Neverwinter and Luskan, so you'll be at least pleased to know that even if I did lash out against someone from Luskan territory, I could be tried for murder – since the man happens to be on his deathbed anyways," Cirié said with a slight growl to her tone.

"Well, whatever the case, I will not have you springing needless violence… much like I will not tolerate him springing needless violence. While I am happy you have returned home—" Duncan had started to say, looking upon Cirié and then pausing as he inspected her a little more closely and scrutinised her. "Ahem, while I am happy you have returned home, I am a very busy man with the Sunken Flagon, and if you intend to stay, then you should know that I may ask for your assistance to at least help the injured man."

"… Very well, Uncle Duncan. There are… some things that I must attend to as well before I even make my way back to Waterdeep in any case. I will need some time to recuperate from this recent journey, though I suppose I will agree to help you since I simply cannot endure a journey back home quite yet… and unfortunately, I also lack the funds to hire a carriage service… not that I would trust the roads anyways…" Cirié sighed in defeat, straightening her posture and turning so that she may look back to her Uncle.

"Just as long as we're at an understanding here, Cirié," Duncan confirmed, giving a slight nod of his head as looked down the hall. A door had stood ajar, a soft light spilling from the room and into the hallway. There was only a small sigh from Duncan, though his expression seemed to speak much about how tired he was.

"Well… I suppose I shouldn't cause you too much trouble, either. I can only imagine what required you travelling to the Luskan border," Cirié started to say, a hint of disdain still in her voice. "But because I can't simply just say 'to Hells with this', and actually have some good conscience in me, I'll do whatever you need me to. After all, you seem just as tired as I – or at least that is what your demeanour tells me."

"Indeed. A trip for a pick up is no simple walk in the park – especially with the bandits having taken advantage of Neverwinter's soldiers being out at battle during that time," Duncan said, offering a little more insight to what it must have been like for him. "If you really are interested in helping, then you would do well to tending to our guest's wounds by the eve."

Turning to leave into the lobby area of the Sunken Flagon, Duncan had only paused before fixating his attention back upon Cirié. Hesitating for a moment, the Elven man spoke, "I do appreciate your stance on this subject, Cirié. Thank you for your understanding – even if you're not happy with the idea with all of this."

"Yeah, well… I'm tired… and I want to get back used to walking upon land after being on that ship for the past week or so," came Cirié's response. "The only question I have now is if my room is still the same as before? Or am I being relocated?"

"It is indeed the same room."

"Thanks."

* * *

Evening had fallen over Neverwinter, and holding true to the word she assured her Uncle, Cirié had been awake and awaiting anything that she needed to know. Must to her dismay, however, Duncan had only offered some cleaning reagents, bandages, and what he called 'sound advice'… which was to not converse with the man. After all, the last thing Duncan wanted was 'for you and that man to wake up the whole of the Docks District with how hot-headed you can be.'

"Yeah, sure… tell me to take care of the guest, but don't tell me what kind of injuries he has. 'Just don't converse with him, because you're like a screaming banshee that shouldn't have been released when angry.' Thanks, Uncle Duncan…" Cirié had mocked to herself as she made her way down along the halls and to the door that had been left ajar.

Pushing the door open with her free hand Cirié had a typical scowl upon her face as she entered the room. Sure enough, there was a man sleeping upon the bed, and from the looks of things, happened to have a pained expression upon his face. Disregarding what she knew of the man's past and pushing aside her disdain for Luskan persons, Cirié had entered the room – however, she was not able to take even two steps in before the man had quickly opened his eyes and nearly bolted upright. His efforts were only stopped by the sharp pain that it looked like he experienced as he made a sharp gasp in pain.

"Perhaps you should try not doing that next time. It'll save you the pain you're clearly in," Cirié had said, feeling no sense of sympathy for the unknown man at this time.

"Don… don't give me orders…. I'd rather draw a blade… to that pretty throat of yours… before I bend a knee… to your will," the man had said, his voice clearly still weakened by whatever events that had transpired before Cirié had come back from the Athkatla war.

"I wouldn't get too excited. In your condition, I'd be surprised if you could even remove a blade from its sheathe, much more so if you could lift a flagon to your lips without wincing," Cirié said, furrowing her brow and pulling up one of the chairs in the room to the bedside.

"Keep talking… I'm sure you could provide enough reason… for me to end your life… which would be a shame for a wench like you. Were you not so talkative… I'd ask you to help warm this bed of mine and ask for special treatment…" the man spat, giving somewhat of a condescending chuckle as he looked over to Cirié.

From what the Elven woman could tell of him, he had scars that decorated parts of his face and body, a slight scruff, and a rugged appearance – something that most women would have found attractive. However, the more Cirié looked upon this man, the more she would have rather worsened his condition than actually assist to better it. Especially with the vile he insinuated with his words.

"I find it fortunate that my uncle has a good heart to treat one with such an outlook upon women as you. Were it not for his gracious personality, my being too far from home, and him being of kin, I wouldn't even be here to treat your wounds," Cirié had shamelessly replied, sitting upon the chair and reaching out to inspect and remove the bandages that lined the man's body.

"Yeah…? That man has you at his beck and call, then? I suppose that makes us one in the same in some small regard, wench."

"Keep calling me 'wench', and you'll have one thing less in common with me, and that will be your tongue," Cirié threatened, giving the Human a rather sour look. Making sure that he had sat still, Cirié unwrapped the bandages from the unknown man's body and dumping them into a bucket that was conveniently placed – most likely by her uncle before then.

"I'll do as I wish, _milady_," was the mocking response from the ranger.

"Very well, but don't get mad when I execute the same procedure… as in, I'll be doing what _I_ want as well…" Cirié replied, removing more of the bandages with little regard as to how it would have been handled. There were some winces and grunts of pain from the Human, and there had even been some snaps of 'watch it!' from the man.

"Nnngh…" the brunet had winced once more in pain before looking to Cirié with a certain kind of malice. "Remind me to lay waste to both you and that uncle of yours after I am back upon my feet, wench."

Jerking her hand back, Cirié had applied the bandages and had been a little rough with how she applied them with each insult or threat that she received from the nameless man that was only there due to Duncan's good will. A trait that Cirié unfortunately shared with most of her kin – after all, she still had the offer of simply leaving if she wanted. And were Cirié to have taken that option, she likely would have inflicted greater wounds upon the man that was already a sitting duck.

"It's certainly lovely to see that you're just the most grateful of patients. Remind me to purchase for you a pastry from the local baker for your enviable tolerance," Cirié sighed, standing up as soon as she had been finished wrapping the wounds with clean bandages, and taking the bucket of soiled bandages with her as she left.

There had been a rather sour expression upon Cirié's face as she realised that she would have _that_ to deal with the entire time that she would be staying here within her uncle's Sunken Flagon. While Cirié could admit to having a thick skin when it pertained to many different insults, most of the ones that degraded or demeaned women were those that justified her actions of wanting to put some men in their place… mostly the Human men, whom of which made her skin crawl with must detest.

* * *

In the time that had passed from when Cirié looked forward to leaving back to Waterdeep, she had endured the ranger's nagging and belittling of her… somehow growing accustomed to it after having doused him in the ale she brought with her one night in hopes that it would numb her to his personality. However, the look of pain and the curses that followed after the alcohol burned his wounds was satisfactory enough for Cirié as she took up Duncan's obligations to the ranger that stayed within the Flagon.

There were few times that Cirié was able to have a civil conversation with the man… and in that time, she had learned that his adopted name had been 'Bishop'. With a roll of her eyes, Cirié had thrown sarcasm his way – telling him that he looked and acted like no bishop she ever had the honour of actually meeting. Though, an eye for an eye, she had thought to herself, and had begrudgingly shared formalities with the man.

Thankfully, this seemed to have elicited a positive response from Duncan as he had been coming back from moving kegs one day and had come to check upon both Bishop and Cirié at one point.

On this particular day, however, a courier had entered the Sunken Flagon as Cirié helped Sal behind the bar, cleaning up the mugs and other dishes there. Looking up as the courier had piqued her interest, the Elven rogue had watched Duncan exchange words with the young looking Human before watching him look over the letter given to him. Pausing in her duties, Cirié noticed the look upon Duncan's face turn grim.

Before long, Duncan had approached his niece with the letter in hand and had handed it off to her. Before he had resumed his own work, he forewarned Cirié of its contents; "after reading your mother's writing, I shall only tell you that you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish should you need more time to recuperate."

Looking to her uncle with some worry, Cirié had furrowed her brow as she took the letter and had looked down to read its contents. As Cirié's eyes travelled to and from word to word, her expression had turned from worried to looking both hurt and saddened. Her eyes glimmered with the tears she fought back from welling in her eyes, and upon noticing Cirié's stance, Sal had stood up from his own work to place a hand upon the Elven woman's shoulder.

"Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off to mull over things..?" Sal questioned, only guessing what must have been written within the letter addressed to Duncan and Cirié. Judging by what Duncan had said prior, Sal could really only assume that the letter must have contained grave news from their family within Waterdeep.

"… That would be appreciated…. Thank you, Sal…" Cirié replied, tightening her grasp upon the letter she held and crumpling it slightly. Swiftly making her way from the bar, Cirié had brushed past Bishop, who seemed completely content with occupying the lobby and drinking the ale that was serviced at the Sunken Flagon. However, as he watched the Elven woman quickly make her way to the lodging, there was an amused scoff and a smirk that danced upon his lips as he took another swig from his mug.

While Cirié had sat in her temporary lodging throughout the rest of the noon, she had steepled her fingers before her, her eyes fixated upon the wall opposite her bed. Closing her eyes and exhaling strongly, the Elven woman laid back upon the bed before pulling the letter back up and rereading the few lines that appeared to have burned themselves into her mind.

'_We are happy to learn of our daughter's return… but since Cirié in in your care, we must inform both you and Cirié of the events that have transpired within Waterdeep. It was not long ago – perhaps three weeks' time before you are presented this letter – which we regret to inform you both that Torin fell in the fortification of the Neverwinter border. While it would be a welcome change to see our precious Cirié's face, and embrace her in our arms… it is still much too soon, and we grieve Torin's death.'_

Sighing and clenching her jaw, the steeled disposition of Cirié had broken as tears had started to stream down along her face. For now, it only felt like a good release… especially with all the events to have transpired in such a short amount of time. First being used for the war, now coming back home and knowing that there were still losses to have been had…. It was never an easy feeling, and as much as Cirié wished to have denied her feelings in front of others, being alone seemed to have been something of solace.

Several moments time had passed, and a light rapping had come at her door. Sitting up, sniffling, and rubbing the tears from her eyes and face, Cirié had gotten up from the bed before opening the door only slightly to reveal Duncan's concerned expression. Widening the door, Cirié allowed her uncle passage into the room before going back to sitting upon her bed.

Silence lingered in the air between the two of them, as it seemed that Duncan found it difficult to find words that would have made anything that was said in that letter as a whole less of a blow. With a sigh, he could really only take a moment as he watched Cirié fail to make eye contact with him in that moment in time.

"Cirié… I probably don't have the words to say to you to make you feel any better about what you read in that letter from your parents… and I'm sorry over the loss of your brother," Duncan had started to say, clearly finding it difficult to speak to his niece over what she must have been feeling right now. "I shall not trivialise your feelings with comparisons to my own tales… all I can really say is that I know that you're a strong being, and I hope for your peace, as well as the peace of your parents over this… unfortunate event."

Cirié remained silent as she turned her head to look out the window of her designated room, and an awkward silence ensued between the two for the time being. As Duncan looked for words of comfort to further say, it appeared he fell short as the Elven woman had stood up and spoke in return, "… I appreciate your words, Uncle Duncan. My brother… he, um… well, we didn't really see eye-to-eye before I left for Neverwinter to take up my… new job opportunity, as it were…. I suppose I'm really just upset by the last words I had said to him."

"I… I see…" Duncan said, not really sure how he should respond.

"I know Torin was always one to look out for my wellbeing, but… I got upset by it because I knew I could handle myself, and set out to prove as such…. Perhaps when I am ready to head back to Waterdeep, I will have to take some time to find out what happened exactly. I would rather have proper closure than a simple letter from my parents…" Cirié concluded, looking back to her uncle with a little hint of anger in her expression.

"If that is what you wish, don't let me tie you down here any longer than need be. You can take your time to get prepared if needed," Duncan declared, straightening his posture and starting for the exit. Taking pause at the doorframe, Duncan had looked back to his niece with a stern expression; "Although, I do hope that you do not let this consume you, Cirié. You've always been rough around the edges as a wee lass… but I'm sure I and the rest of your family would be at a loss should you allow an event like this to dominate your emotions."

With that bit of advice, Duncan had left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Cirié to mull over more of her thoughts on the whole ordeal. While it was true that there was a myriad of feelings in her head, chest, and gut that made her nauseated, she doubted highly that she would have been too emotionally controlled.

Brushing off Duncan's advice for now, Cirié retreated back to her bed so that she may slumber and prepare for her departure in the coming days.


	2. Esther & Filip

**Chapter Two: Esther & Filip**

The morning sun shone through the curtains of the room, and Cirié had been awake, tightening the straps upon her boots and cinching the belt around her waist. There was a placid look upon her face as she gathered up the rest of her items and then slung the cloak around her shoulders so that she may be off. However, as Cirié exited her room, she noticed a certain… excitement around the hearth fire within the lobby.

Peeking around out the door to see what was going on, Cirié was a little surprised to see Bishop out of bed and speaking with Duncan and Sal. Noting that it was only him being rather disgruntled about something, or other, Cirié had only straightened her posture before starting to walk out and for the exit to the building.

"Cirié, hold for a moment, would you?" Duncan had said, looking to his niece and swiftly making his way over whilst manoeuvring past tables and empty chairs.

Cirié's shoulders could have been seen drooping with annoyance in response to her uncle's wishes, though she still turned to face the other Elven man that ran the inn. Not really even asking for a reason why he delayed her departure, or even why he wanted to halt her, Cirié had only folded her arms over her chest.

"Bishop and I were just discussing a certain debt. Since you would be making your way to Waterdeep on your own, I think it would be best were you to have some company along with you. Particularly should you run into any trouble," Duncan started to say, glancing back to Bishop for a moment before looking back to Cirié.

"… I refuse," Cirié had said after turning her own attention toward the brown-haired Human.

"Well, old man, it seems that you can save that 'debt' for another day," Bishop sneered, giving Cirié a rather dirty look before pulling up a chair and sitting down. Issuing a slight whistle from his lips, Bishop had demanded a pint of ale from Sal.

"I never said it would be part of the entire debt, Bishop," Duncan quickly retorted, furrowing his brow and turning his attention toward the Human that appeared to have been making himself comfortable at the table.

"Are you insinuating I owe that whore a certain 'debt' as well?" Bishop had inquired a look of sheer bemusement upon his face as he immediately sat at attention.

"I'll take your head as collection if you keep calling me such names, you flea-ridden mongrel!" Cirié snapped, slipping the bag from her shoulder and pulling a dagger from her holster upon her bandolier. She had been quick to approach Bishop with the dagger drawn, though was just as promptly cut short as Duncan had rushed in between her and her destination.

"Cirié, hold up your own end of the agreement…" Duncan commanded, placing a hand upon her shoulder, and then looking over to Bishop to give him a stern look. "As for you, Bishop, I would say that, yes, you do owe Cirié a 'debt' as well. After all, she did _help_ you as well. She is no less entitled to a debt as I am."

The corner of Bishop's mouth had twitched downward with agitation as he got up. The chair skid back behind him with an unholy screech, and Bishop had quickly shoved past Duncan and Cirié both, muttering something under his breath about 'service to inbred good-for-nothings'. As Bishop had disappeared into the hallway, the Elven woman had given her uncle a look of disgust pertaining to the events that just transpired.

"Uncle Duncan… I appreciate your concern, but I would really rather not travel with some vile, sexist pig that made his way from whatever pungent sphincter pirate he found his way out of," Cirié growled, sheathing her dagger back into its place upon her bandolier. It was clear that she had been both upset and flustered by the prospect of having Bishop tag along, especially when he had been nothing but trouble in most cases when it concerned her having been there to tend to his injuries.

"A trip to Waterdeep is no simple walk from Neverwinter, Cirié. You had not even come from Waterdeep alone; I am not going to allow for you to head out by yourself with everything still at unease and unrest among those native," Duncan had sternly replied, giving his niece a very serious look.

"I can honestly handle myself, Uncle. There is no need to worry about me. I'd rather you use that man as some kitchen boy rather than accompany me back to my home," Cirié sighed, closing her eyes for but a brief moment and raising her hand to rub at her forehead to help reduce the headache that was already starting to surface.

"If it means getting your debt off my back, then by all means, I suppose I should. Maybe I'll be fortunate enough to see your demise along the way," Bishop's voice rang out from the doorway to the rooms. He appeared to have gathered up his own supplies, as there was a cloak that had been draped over his shoulders, and a longbow that he held. Overall, Bishop seemed more than ready to leave, and as soon as possible.

"I honestly could not care less about whatever 'debt' that I could collect from you," Cirié replied rather flatly, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "I just want to meet my family in peace, not bring home some half-wit dog that looks like he would be better off going back to whatever bog he was unfortunate enough to spawn from."

"Watch it, girl. That charm of yours might just entice me to do something you would not be fond of," Bishop teased, giving Cirié a smug smirk before heading off toward the door. Pausing as he grabbed the handle, he looked back and said, "well, the day's not getting any shorter. I wouldn't want the night to fall and for you to get lost. Or maybe I would. It would just mean less work for me to watch over you."

"I never asked for you to come along—Duncan!" Cirié shouted, balling her hands into fists and looking to her uncle with an angered expression. "I'll collect that debt of mine at some other point, but for now, I do not want that man venturing with me! In fact, I might just make that debt to collect Bishop kindly offing himself to save me the trouble!"

"Cirié—well…" Duncan started to say, frowning at his niece's response to the whole ordeal. Giving a long exhale to the events that were to have transpired, Duncan had just folded his arms over his chest. There was a look of defeat upon his face as he considered all the events that happened within the last several months that Cirié had been away to Athkatla, and the fact that she was there today, and she was still well despite everything.

"Very well, Cirié. I suppose you can save that 'debt' Bishop owes you for another time. Though, if something bad is to happen to you, by the Nine help me. Your family doesn't need more bad news coming to them by courier," Duncan had said, dropping his hands back down to his side and watching as Bishop gave an aggravated scoff before backing off the door.

"Thank you, Uncle. I promise a safe journey. After all, I doubt I would be here if I weren't careful enough," Cirié said, clearly relieved.

"And were you 'careful enough', you wouldn't have been caught in the first place to have been drafted without a real choice," Duncan sternly pointed out, furrowing his brow and looking like a disappointed parent scolding their child more than anything. However, he shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and just gave another sigh. "But it is your choice, I suppose. I would just rather you be as safe as you could. I do care much for your wellbeing; as I would for any other kin."

"Again, I appreciate it, Uncle…. But I can handle myself. In any case, I will be off. I'll write you as soon as I can manage," Cirié had said, gathering up the bag that she had slipped off her shoulder and making her way for the exit once more. She had brushed past Bishop and had opened the door to be greeted by the morning air, and the soft light that peeked over the shops and housing.

Closing the inn door behind her, Cirié had walked along the roads, passing those that were also up early, and keeping mostly to herself. It was several minutes of travel, though she had reached the exit to the city and had started her journey southeast of Neverwinter. Past the bridge, Cirié had only paused for but a moment as he flipped open one of the pouches to her bandoliers and took out the map of northwest Faerûn to look exactly where she would have been to travel.

Tracing the way along with her finger, Cirié had looked around to her surroundings and got back to walking. So long as she had the cool air of the morning to actually keep her refreshed and awake for now, there was nothing to have been too worried about for now. However, the precautions were still there since Cirié had made sure to keep her hand upon the hilt of the short sword that she kept sheathed at her side. Luckily, it had been concealed by her cloak, just in case there was anyone that she was to meet that would have caused her trouble.

* * *

It had been a couple of days, and the worst scuffles that Cirié had come across were that of the wild beasts that lurked within the forests – mostly wolves. However, the other thing that Cirié seemed to battle was that of hunger – even despite her packing of trail rations or even some jerky that had been distributed among the Neverwinter soldiers that were to help the forces against Amn's advances.

However, in Cirié's travels, she had ventured past the town of Highcliff, and had even passed those that resided within the swamp town of West Harbour. While she kept mostly to herself and only purchased when necessary, the Elven woman had made do with most of what she was able to carry on her person as she continued to travel southeast and along the coast – then along the very edge of what was known as the Mere of Dead Men.

Unease and some paranoia seeped into Cirié as she walked through the area, looking about the trees and the fog of the swamp area. It had never been advisable to have ventured throughout the swamp areas close to the Mere without one or two other people to have come along to even the odds against the giant spiders or even the lizard men that roamed about here and there.

"Maybe taking Uncle Duncan's temporary lap dog would have been good…" Cirié muttered rather bitterly at herself as she did her best to remain quiet whilst walking through the area. However, that seemed hard since her boots would get caught and sucked down into some of the softer, or muddier parts of the bog when she had not been paying attention to where exactly her feet had been placed.

The drone of mosquitoes had made Cirié grateful for her leather armours, and she had done her best to refrain from keeping her attention upon the downside of the bog and to the venture till she had reached her destination. Of course with each '_shloop_' and '_frrlp_' of her footsteps, Cirié could only grimace – after all, this was a lot less graceful than she would have liked.

Pausing, Cirié had become a little more alert to her surroundings as her ears seemed to have picked up on the sound of something being swung into vines. Every now and again, there was a grunt from someone that seemed to have been the source of the swinging. With these sounds now being focused upon, the Elven woman had hunkered down, even if only by a bit, and had attempted to get a little closer to the sound just to assess what exactly was going on.

Eyes narrowed and gazing through the greenish haze, Cirié had been able to get through more of the wet marshland. Before long, she had finally been able to get settled far enough away from what she had been hearing. Revealed to her sight was a decently armoured Human female that stood over the body of a male Halfling companion who seemed to have been unconscious at the moment.

Aside from them, Cirié had noticed the five lizard folk that had been hissing and hopping forward to attack at the woman. Due to the number of the lizard folk that were around, the Elven woman had decided to continue staying close and out of sight at the crumbled rock formation that kept her several metres away from the excitement. As Cirié peaked over, she had seen the woman charge forward and run her blade through one of the lizard folk, and then quickly pivoting to take one of the limbs of one of the others.

Raising a brow to what she had been seeing, Cirié had continued to watch the woman, though her attention had gone to the Halfling that had been left upon the ground as his companion hacked and slashed at the opposition. As much as Cirié wished to have stayed there, the fact that the woman had been busy made the rogue's decisions feel torn. While the other armoured woman remained busy with clearing the area, Cirié had quickly started for the Halfling.

In that time, Cirié had flipped open a couple pouches upon her bandoliers just to get prepared in case the wounds upon the Halfling were of extreme concern. Nearing the smaller body, there had been a cut upon the Halfling's shoulder, and an obvious blow to the head – though there was indication of the small man having been simply knocked out rather than actually dead.

'_Well… at least he's breathing…_' Cirié thought to herself, bringing out some of her packed bandages and a small vial of blue liquid.

Before anything could have been done in terms of Cirié enacting her triage practises, the chinking of chainmail and plated armour had drawn near, and from the sounds of it, at a high speed. Once noticing this, Cirié had looked up in time to see a flash of silver, and then felt the blunt force of an armoured forearm making contact with the entire left side of her face. This was enough to have sent the smaller Elven woman tumbling backwards within the mud, and causing her good bandages to sprawl out upon the bog ground.

Cirié lay upon the mud and grass in slight shock, her face smarting rather violently, and her eyes shut tight to endure the pain. Slowly raising a hand to her cheek, the Elven woman had sat up, feeling the mud stick to her exposed skin, hair, and even drag her down a bit on her armour and clothing. This certainly was not something that she had planned for, that was certain.

"By the Nine, woman… any harder and you could have knocked my head right off…" Cirié groaned, bringing her free hand up and swiping mud off of the other side of her face and leathers. Staggering upward, the Elven had looked to the armoured female that now looked almost uneasy. It was something that only piqued Cirié's interest in that moment, though she still focused on the pain in her face that kept throbbing rather painfully.

"Wh-what were you doing with my friend?" were the words that the female fighter had asked, furrowing her brow and tightening her grip upon her long sword.

The tone made Cirié pause and wonder just why the woman before her sounded as if she were more scared of her when the Human had been more heavily armoured, and even had a weapon at the ready. For now, Cirié could now only look dumbfounded at the auburn-haired woman that had taken a defensive stance over her Halfling friend.

"… Uh…" Cirié had started, now at a loss as to what to say since now the woman that had laid waste to lizard folk stood there with some kind of timid nature starting to surface. Clearing her throat, Cirié had rubbed at her cheek a little more before she looked to both the unconscious body and then the Human before continuing, "I _was_ going to help your partner, there…. But now, since you seem to have thought that I was doing something else, my bandages have all been rendered useless."

"Oh…" the woman had mustered, looking positively embarrassed. The woman had frowned and lowered her guard, looking both sheepish and guilty. "I… I'm really sorry. By the Hells, if I h-had known that, I would not have hit you as hard. Hells, I wouldn't have hit you at all!"

"… Yeah… I would imagine…" Cirié had said, soon turning away and rotating her jaw just to see if there were any other serious damages done to her face. Lowering her hand from her face, Cirié had issued a long sigh before walking forward and picking up the phial of blue liquid that she was going to give to the Halfling.

"A-ah… um…" the fighter seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say as she watched the Elven woman walk about.

"Is there a problem?" Cirié asked, frowning at the fighter's clear reluctance to speak.

"N-no! Just… um… I-I'm really sorry about striking you across the face and h-hurting you," the fighter continued, making a valiant attempt on keeping her words together. Clearing her throat and making the attempt to compose herself, the fighter continued: "… I suppose I sh-should thank you for trying to help my friend…. And I should really apologise for reacting the way I did…. M-my name is Es… Esther. Esther Sapir. M-my friend that you… um… you tried to help… his name is Filip Keve."

"… Cirié Acwulf…" the Elven woman introduced more in respect rather than necessity.

"'Sir-ee-ay Ack-volf', g-got it… I think," Esther had repeated to herself, going ahead and sheathing her sword into its scabbard. Leaning over, she had picked up Filip and effortlessly hoisting him up and over her shoulder. Once he had been secured, Esther had picked up the mandolin that had been carelessly dropped to the ground – presumably when Filip had been knocked out.

"Is… I mean, that is… are you all alone out here..?" Esther asked, looking about to the lifeless lizard man bodies upon the ground. "A-as you probably noticed… i-it's not really… um… safe out here…."

Cirié had pulled out her map in the time that Esther had tended to Filip, and it was obvious that the Elven woman had been a little annoyed. Her shoulders had drooped quickly as the Human fighter had asked her question. For the most part, Cirié was starting to find Esther's personality a little grating.

"Yes… yes, I'm all alone out here. Had I known I would have nearly been given a concussion, I might have brought that dog back my uncle's to have softened the blow for me," Cirié sighed, a slight look of agitation befalling her face.

"D-dog!? Perhaps I should have used my sword if you're that heartless," Esther had exclaimed, looking surprised by the prospect.

"Huh…?" Cirié had been thrown for a loop in that moment before she realised what her malice must have sounded like. "Oh… eh… don't worry about it. I wasn't referencing an actual dog. You could say I was just talking about a different—you know what… just… forget I said anything. Just recognise that I wasn't talking about an actual dog."

"… I suppose I'll h-have to take your word for it…" Esther cautiously replied, frowning and giving Cirié a scrutinising look.

"Mmhm…" was all that Cirié half-heartedly grunted in response as she rose the map back up to get an idea for where she was. She had gone back to tracing over some lines with her fingers, and then looked behind her to see just where exactly she had been travelling from. Of course, with the swamp being what it was, and the haze being relatively disorienting, there was little that Cirié could do but curse under her breath.

"Is something w-wrong?" Esther asked, noting the Elf's mutterings.

"Yeah, actually…" Cirié slowly replied, glancing back to her map and then folding it back into one of her bandolier pouches. "Aside from the Mere of Dead Men being a confusing place to begin with, I fear that I have actually lost my sense of direction. I'm supposed to be making my way to Waterdeep."

"Waterdeep? That's a little out of the way, no?" Esther asked, still looking a little uneasy as she spoke to Cirié.

"Indeed it is…" was Cirié's response after a few moments. "But I need to get back there. I have some important business and all."

"I suppose that Filip and I are q-quite a ways from our home as well," it was obvious that Esther seemed at a loss as to what to really say in regards to Cirié. However, the bog was relatively barren, and the Elven woman had been the only friendly individual within the immediate area.

"That's unfortunate, I suppose…." It was evident by Cirié's trailing about the area to see if she could retrace her steps that she had not really been too interested in what the fighter had to say on the matter.

An awkward silence filled the air as Cirié rubbed at her forehead and closed her eyes. At this current time, all she could really afford to do was not start thinking about the very real fact that she was lost, and within a place so hazy, probably had very little in the way of getting back on track.

"What I'm… trying to say… is that maybe you wouldn't… w-well… mind both… myself and Filip joining you?" Esther said after a moment when Cirié had paused in her motions and looked utterly defeated by the thoughts that welled up in her mind.

As Esther's words registered in her mind, Cirié had looked up and over to the auburn-haired woman, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Obviously giving some consideration to Esther's words, Cirié had issued a long 'hmmm' to the woman's offer.

"If you can ensure us getting to Waterdeep from here, then sure; I suppose it would be better to travel as a group anyways, rather than travelling alone," Cirié had concluded, bringing a hand to her chin.

"We… we gettin' paid for goin' along with ya, girl?" a man's voice rang out, thoroughly startling Esther to emitting an 'eep!' and dropping both Filip and the mandolin. The Halfling hit the ground with a wet '_shlapt_' sound, and the man had winced in pain as he had to take a moment to catch his breath.

"Oh no! I am so sorry, Filip! Y-you just startled me!" Esther hurriedly exclaimed, kneeling down and helping the small man back up onto his feet. Esther looked absolutely apologetic whereas Filip could have competed with an animal plagued by rabies for angriest look. However, Filip's attention had not remained on Esther for long, but had gone to Cirié, who had been just observing the two that she had met with.

"Well, girl?" Filip had asked, his attention unwavering from the Elven woman.

"As nice as it would be to have you both accompanying me, it's fortunate for me to tell you that I cannot," Cirié replied. This response was met by a confused look from Esther, and an even more miffed look from Filip.

"W-wait, you mean 'unfortunate'… right?" Esther had questioned, standing back up.

"No, I meant what I said."

"Ya certainly know how to choose 'em, don't ya, Esther?" Filip begrudgingly asked, turning his head to look up at the armoured woman.

"Wh—? What was I supposed to do? She's the only person out here along with the lizard men, spiders, and beetles. I-I… there's a-also wolves… a-and wolverines out here…" Esther desperately started to say, attempting to justify her decision based upon the fact that the Mere of Dead Men certainly was not a place where people should have been venturing for just a simple stroll anyways.

"Oh, by the Hells…" Cirié hissed under her breath, bringing her hand back up and rubbing at her eyes at what she was to deal with on the way to Waterdeep if she was not able to find a way to lose both of them.

"Look, if I find a way to get you paid, will you at least please… _please_… give me peace by not being… what I'm bearing witness to at this current time?" Cirié nearly begged, her brow furrowed in exasperation. What she had said was the only thing she could have thought of that would have given her two companions that that could service as meat-shields if needed, and it would have quelled Esther's apparent guilty conscience. As for the Halfling? At least he would have gone under the impression that he was getting something out of it.

"Hm… I suppose a bargain like that will have to do. So long as ya can hold up yer end of the deal. If ya don't, ya won't like the end results," Filip said, trying to appear threatening.

"Being threatened by a man that's not even a metre tall is one of the most laughable things I can think of right now," Cirié replied, her face remaining stagnant as ever. Bringing a hand up to her face and feeling the swelling that was there, Cirié gave an addled sigh before progressing what she had to say: "but alright… fine. Whatever. I'll keep up my end of the deal here… so can we finally get on our way to Waterdeep? The faster we get there, the faster all of us get to accomplish whatever we have going for us."

Going ahead and rolling his eyes to Cirié's tone, Filip snorted with a simple 'hmpf' before straightening out his tunic and standing up straight. Dusting off any bits of nature from his body, the Halfling had glanced back to Esther before gathering his mandolin and looking at the damages upon the instrument.

"Right… best be goin', then," Filip said after he assayed the mandolin and deducing that there had been little to no major damages made.

* * *

Now, with two unlikely companions, and a tolerance level that had been tested several times throughout the days, Cirié, Esther, and Filip had managed to get out of the Mere of Dead Men. That meant that the next obstacle to have tackled was traversing the lowest point of the Sword Mountains. This was a task that seemed to have been met with some resistance and plans as to what to do instead.

"I heard that the mountains here are still rife with orcs and trolls. Maybe it would be best to take a longer route?" Esther had asked, frowning slightly as the group had come to a halt upon the road they had managed to find.

"The roads are patrolled by Waterdeep guards and soldiers. I don't think there's too much to really worry about. The history texts have always said any groups that could even rise against the Waterdeep forces from the Sword Mountains have fallen. I honestly don't think there's too much of a threat there," Cirié replied, placing her hands upon her hips. "Even then, I'm sure Esther could wipe out several individuals that would even try to make a stand against us."

"I'd rather avoid bloodshed, if at all possible," Esther said, her expression retaining a sense of unease about it as she spoke.

"Yeah, well… that might not be possible," Cirié sighed, taking a few steps more along the road.

"If we _can_ avoid battle, it'd probably be best to do so is all she's sayin', lass," the irritable bard, Filip, had spoken up. "After all, I wouldn't really trust ya too much in battle – what with that shiner on yer face from when Esther beat ya across the bog."

"Yes… thanks for the reminder. It is completely appreciated; I wouldn't know what to do without you reminding me that my face is swollen and bruised," came Cirié's rather flippant response to Filip. "However, I can at least agree that the less the bloodshed, the better. I am just saying that it might not be a possibility. I'm not even sure if most orcs and trolls in these parts are even diplomatic."

With a certain agreement passed on between the three, the travel throughout the lowest point of the Sword Mountains was executed with caution. Rations had run low, and the only fortunate thing to have come from continuing to traverse the manmade roads within the area was the fact that there were merchants and traders that also travelled the road to get from Waterdeep to Neverwinter. Fortunately for that, the group had been able to restock on some rations, and even get some other preserved foods for their travels.

From there, the travel to Waterdeep involved passing the occasional guard that bore Waterdeep's emblem, and Cirié generally tending to avoid talking to those that they walked by in the two days that it took for the group of three to reach the city's walls. There had been a look of relief upon Cirié's generally soured face, and it seemed that both Esther and Filip were more relaxed by the sighting of the city gates as well.

Walking past the guards at the gate and stepping into the city life that was Waterdeep, a concerned look had quickly taken hold of Cirié's face. Pausing not too far within the city's limits, the Elven woman had looked over to both Esther and Filip. Though it seemed that the two of them appeared impressed by the structure of the city, and had even slowed their pace to take in the new scenery, Cirié had given a slight sigh as she thought about how she was going to give them a request.

"Alright, well since we've made it in one piece – and luckily with sanity retained – I do have something that needs dealing with here that is… of a private matter," Cirié said, approaching both her unlikely companions over the last few days.

"What's that?" Filip had said, perking up to Cirié's words. The Halfling looked rather miffed by the prospect that the woman they had come to an agreement with would have just bailed on them. Folding his arms over his chest, Filip had decided to speak further on the matter, "even if ya do have 'private matters', ya promised us payment for escortin' ya along to this city."

"I did... and I don't intend on going back on my word. However, I must ask that you two linger about the city while I get the answers I came here for. If you can find a map, I can promise a meeting in the central marketplace with your coin," Cirié said, attempting to be brief.

"How do we know we can trust ya, lass?" Filip questioned, narrowing his eyes and looking even more unimpressed with the rogue. After all, after getting some insight within their travels, it was unlikely that neither he nor Esther would have jumped at the idea of trusting every word that came out of Cirié's mouth.

There was a momentary lapse in Cirié's response as she opened her mouth to make a reply, but then quickly closed it to make way for a heavy sigh. Rubbing at her forehead as she had figured that even she would have placed little trust within herself if she were someone else, the Elven woman took a moment. After she had collected her thoughts, the first thing that Cirié had done was to remove a necklace from her person and hold it out.

"… It's something I snagged while overseas for a while, but it's something that I wish to keep close. You both can hang onto it to ensure my coming back to uphold my end of our agreement. Is this fair enough?" Cirié asked, looking both defeated and a little miffed by the events to have transpired. However, once the amulet had been taken up by the Halfling, she was met by an uncertain glance before he had turned to appraise the item.

"Hm… golden amulet that bears the mark of the Shadow Thieves of Amn… and on the other side has the symbol of Waukeen." Filip seemed engrossed in thought as he flipped the amulet over in his hands. Giving Cirié a highly scrutinising look after a moment, he soon paced around her before speaking further: "yer not… _involved_ in anythin' that would potentially get us in trouble, are ya?"

"Well… I suppose _that_ will just have to be a story for another time, my good tankard-sized acquaintance. For now, I bid the two of you farewell, and to respect the laws of my home, and not to get me into further trouble than what I'm used to. See you at some time within the marketplace," Cirié swiftly replied with a hint of a cheerful look, turning on her heel and making her way past people and down along the roads.

As soon as Cirié had made it a good several metres away from both Esther and Filip did a grim expression befall her face once again. Wasting no time on just idling, Cirié did her best to weave through the people that had occupied the streets, and had only one objective on her mind within this current moment.


	3. Vindication

**Chapter Three: Vindication**

Cirié had taken pause in front of a house that seemed to have been out of the way of the common bustle that had been commonplace for people getting to and from the marketplace. Biding her time if but for a moment, the Elven woman had taken in a breath before advancing toward the door. Despite remembering what it said in the letter that Duncan and she had received when back in Neverwinter, the issues that had risen were just much too important for Cirié to have ignored.

Standing awkwardly at the door of the building, Cirié seemed to have been having some trouble keeping herself composed as she shakily rose a hand. Gently rapping her fist against the door, Cirié could really only wait for the response that was to come.

Several moments had passed, and Cirié had knocked again on the door, this time a little harder.

The sound of something being knocked over and crashing to the ground was heard within the home, and the hairs at the back of Cirié's neck had risen as a slight adrenaline kick had surged through her body. That fuelling her, Cirié had damned the rules and laws of Waterdeep and had immediately withdrawn her thieves' tools to begin picking at the lock after she had tried to open the door with no positive result.

Once that satisfying 'click' had been heard, the Elven woman had shoved the door open only to reveal what looked to have been some very tired looking individuals. Feeling the fear subside and being able to actually collect herself, Cirié cleared her throat and looked to the two elder Elven beings with a sheepish expression as she avoided eye contact. Fidgeting, Cirié knew that this probably was not the most ideal situations to have been in.

"… H-hello mum… hi father…" Cirié had said quietly, reaching over and swiping her tools back from the door's lock. "Um… right… I… I thought something was going on that required immediate attention. Sorry if I startled you. I was just… worried. Especially after what I heard not too long ago."

"When we heard you knocking, we were almost afraid for who might have been at the door," the elder female had spoken, stepping around the small table that had been knocked over. There was a bowl along with some crafting supplies that had been scattered upon the wooden floor of the house as well.

"What? Why? What's going on around here since Uncle Duncan and I received your letter?" Cirié asked, turning her attention to her mother instantly.

There was an exchange of apprehensive looks between Cirié's parents as it appeared that they were at a loss for words. This was something that raised the Elven rogue's own insecurities as she closed the door of the house and then stepped further into the building. Now that there was less worry over anyone that might have been watching, Cirié had slowly approached her parents.

"Mum?" Cirié called out quietly, her brow furrowing as troubled feelings started to rise and take over.

"Cirié, dear… d-don't worry too much about what has happened here, okay?" the other Elven woman had finally said after a moment, attempting to cover her own worry and doubt with a happy façade. Holding out her arms, and coming forward to embrace her daughter, the woman had gone on to say, "we're happy that you are home, my little kestrel."

"I'm… I'm just glad to see that the both of you are okay…" Cirié replied, awkwardly hugging her mother before turning her head to look to her father. There was some clear scepticism in Cirié's mind in terms of what was going on, and once she had stepped back from the familial embrace, she had cleared her throat before giving her parents a stern look.

"Now may I please be told what exactly is going on?" Cirié asked, giving her parents a concerned and miffed expression that they were not telling her everything.

Cirié's father had given a long exhale before glancing to his wife, and then turning his attention toward the bookcase that had been opposite the fireplace. Striding over to it, he had shuffled some of the haphazardly placed books and documents around before getting an envelope that had a broken wax seal on it. Handing it off to Cirié, he said to her, "… we received this shortly after… Torin was said to have fallen at the border."

Taking up the envelope from her father, Cirié had gone over to the window to get some more light before quickly taking the parchment and opening it to see what it read.

'_To the Acwulf family,_

'_It is a shame that your kin, Torin Acwulf, has fallen at the border of Luskan. Our deepest and most heartfelt sympathies would go out to you… if you hadn't proven yourselves betrayers to our cause. You can continue believing that Torin fell in battle honourably, though if you don't give us back what you have stolen, you will meet the same fate that he had. It really was a glorious thing… how Torin had been valiant in his determination to protect your Gods forsaken name._

'_While we care little for Dyfane and Sius, your daughter will do just as well… if she hasn't already fallen in that insignificant war between Waterdeep, its allies, and Athkatla. Though, from our sources, it appears that she and many other Neverwinter and Waterdeep soldiers will be returning from Athkatla._

'_Give us back what is ours, or once Cirié arrives back within Waterdeep's ports, she will be disposed of.'_

Feeling a little lightheaded after reading all of what had been written, Cirié's heart felt like it had been lodged in her throat. Taking a moment to recuperate after having read it, however, the Elven woman had slowly returned the letter to her father, Sius.

"… I suppose they weren't expecting me to have a return in Neverwinter's ports. So much for their contacts…" Cirié quietly said, attempting not to sound mocking or apathetic to it.

"Indeed they were not. It seems that despite what they knew, they had no idea that you had been detained by Lord Nasher of Neverwinter for crimes against his city," Sius said, looking rather grave as he put the letter back upon the dishevelled looking bookshelf.

"Yeah… well… at least I walk from Neverwinter a free woman…" Cirié replied, rubbing at the back of her neck as she was still trying to process everything that she had read. While she was uncertain as to what the letter could have been talking about, there was one thing for certain… and that was that the Acwulf family appeared to have a dark cloud that loomed over their every waking breath and action.

"What are they talking about within the letter? In all the years that I have lived here, there's nothing that I know of that would have any significance…" Cirié looked very confused, and again, her parents had exchanged looks that expressed their worry once more. It was not until Sius had walked from the room and down the hallway to retrieve something.

Watching after her father, Cirié had looked rather perplexed before she looked to her mother. She was about to ask more questions before her father came back with a tiny chest and had presented it to the younger Elven woman. Cirié gingerly took the small box within her hands before she eyed her father with a questionable expression.

"Just open it and take it. I know you're not staying home for a significant amount of time… not with how we know how you are. Because of your nature, it might benefit us if you took it," Sius had said, walking over and picking up the fallen over table. As he gathered up the other spilled items, Cirié had frowned and took the box to the closest stable surface to open it.

"Sius, do you think that this is really the right thing for our daughter to take that?" Dyfane had asked, watching both her husband and daughter with worry. "If they thought that Torin had what is in that box, Cirié is at an even greater risk should she take that with her…!"

"They won't expect Cirié to have it. Those that claimed Torin's life are already under the impression that we are the ones that carry it. I would rather Cirié carry it with her than know that if they do strike, they will get what they are after in the end. In this regard, Cirié will be at less of a risk until the Umber Blade realise that it wasn't with us," Sius replied. "If they do strike here, we can defend for as long as possible if they Waterdeep guard fail to do their jobs properly."

During the time that Cirié's parents had exchanged words, the rogue had gotten the small chest open and had pulled out the wrapped item within. Curious to the contents, Cirié had pulled the cloth to reveal the item underneath. As opposed to being impressed, the Elven rogue found herself severely underwhelmed by what looked to have been a simple shard of a weapon.

"… Please tell me that this is just an elaborate joke…" Cirié said, furrowing her brow and frowning. "Why would anyone want anything with a simple shard? There's nothing special about this at all, is there?"

"That's where you would be wrong, my little kestrel," Dyfane spoke up, closing the area between herself and her daughter. Having been more in tune with magicks and thereof, Dyfane had reached out for the shard, revealing some of the magical aura that had surrounded it.

"It's a weak property at the moment, but… it's clear that it's a piece of something important. Your uncle Daeghun had advised us to keep a hold of it instead of simply tossing it. That man has always been rather secretive and never really elaborated further on it," Dyfane said, frowning as she withdrew her hand.

"So… I just need to keep it safe, then?" Cirié asked, already having a plan in mind in keeping the shard if it really was as important as her parents had said.

"That is the idea, yes…" Sius had stepped in to say. "It's probably best if you don't even stay here for any significant amount of time. While this is a rather bittersweet reunion, we must ask you to leave for your own safety, Cirié. We didn't want you here for the reason that we are threatened, but you decided to show anyways."

"But—"

"No, Cirié!" Sius exclaimed, placing his hands upon his daughter's shoulders firmly. Pulling Cirié to him for a moment and hugging her tightly and reassuringly, Sius had been brief about the action before letting go and allowing Dyfane one last embrace as well. While the two women had hugged, Sius had departed to retrieve another item.

"Know that we love you, my little kestrel," Dyfane had said, smiling meekly to Cirié before leaning in and giving a peck upon her daughter's forehead. Shortly after, Sius had returned with a sheathed blade, soon handing it off to Cirié.

"This was returned to us by the Waterdeep guard as they told us that Torin had fallen at the border. I believe that it'll benefit you much more than if we were to keep it here. Treat it well," Sius had said, watching as Cirié wrapped the silver shard and place it into her side belt pouches. She had then turned to take up the scabbard, drawing the blade out by a couple inches to look at the steel encased within.

Holstering the scabbard to her opposite side of her main blade, Cirié had looked to both her parents, not sure if she should feel hurt, worried, or relieved that they were alright. Though there was no real time to really stand there and idle for a bit, Cirié had watched her mother and father once more before they urged her to leave the vicinity once more. However, the younger Elven woman had not turned for the door without first stepping in to give her parents one last hug.

"We love you, Cirié…" Sius said, his expression softening as he watched Cirié exit through the front door after she had been done with farewells.

Stepping back out onto the streets, Cirié had that weight in the pit of her stomach that was conflicted with many feelings. Walking down along the familiar paths, the rogue had done her best to tear her thoughts from the things that threated to trouble her for any significant amount of time. Too soon had she found herself at the marketplace, however, and upon realisation, Cirié had looked about to see if Esther and Filip were anywhere within eyeshot.

It took some sifting around and manoeuvring around people before Cirié caught sight of the non-native armours that Esther wore, and the Halfling bard that accompanied her. Taking in a breath as Cirié though about how she was going to explain certain things to them, the rogue had started to make her way over to where they stood. Luckily, it seemed that they were browsing certain items and were a little too preoccupied with the amulets and rings that had been for sale.

Slowing her pace as she closed the distance, Cirié remained quiet for now, only watching and observing both Esther and Filip as they spoke with the merchant. Though it was nice that neither one of them happened to have been getting on the rogue's nerves, there was still the question of getting the two of them paid since Cirié did have an agreement to uphold. However, it might have depended on whether or not that charm that Filip carried was really worth the trouble. It was just a random piece of jewellery after all.

Pushing away her inner demons and giving a tired sigh to everything, Cirié had waddled over to Esther's free side and had touched upon some of the items that had been on display. Once the Human fighter had caught sight of the other woman, she had flinched some before looking over and calming down at the sight of Cirié.

"I still have some things to do here, but they're things I can save for another time. We can get to one of the lodges around here to bunk for the night. In the meantime, I guess we should also discuss the payment between us," Cirié said flatly, continuing to play with some of the other articles of jewellery that had been on display. From the looks of things, the merchant had been uneasy with all of Cirié's touching and prodding at his wares.

Once hearing Cirié's voice, Filip turned his gaze upwards, a little surprised to have seen the Elven woman within the area of which she had indicated. Putting down one of rings that he had been examining, the bard had wiped his hands on his tunic and then addressed Cirié; "I wasn't really expectin' to see ya here so soon, lass. Don't tell me that this business of yers was just somethin' that could have been resolved at the nearest outhouse."

"Ah… so aside from the highly laughable threats, the bard actually has some comedic prowess… though nothing too great," Cirié chided, not really too impressed by the bard's facetious remark upon her brief disappearance. "However, that is something where you would actually be wrong. I'll expand upon it once we secure lodging for the evening. As for now, you must forgive me if I am not comfortable speaking within public hearing."

"… Fair enough, lass," Filip begrudgingly replied, frowning to Cirié and then looking up to Esther. While Esther had attempted to busy herself with looking at the jewellery again, she had made momentary glances back to Filip and Cirié as the two exchanged words. However, once she had caught onto Filip's gaze, she noted that his posture seemed to suggest some irritation.

"S-so does that mean that we are going to find an inn f-for the e-evening?" Esther asked, giving a weak smile in lieu of her discomfort.

"It certainly seems that way," came Filip's response as he adjusted his mandolin and had gestured to around the marketplace. He had given Cirié a patronising look before asking her, "so then, lass… care to lead up somewhere you would personally recommend?"

"There's a lodge that's close to the entrance where we came in from. Something like… the Mist Moon Inn? We'll have to look out for Ivory Street, and we'll be close to where it's located," Cirié explained. Without wasting any time, Cirié had shifted the pack she carried before starting her way north past the market and not really waiting for either Filip or Esther to start following along after her.

The early onset of dusk had settled over the city by the time that Cirié had gotten herself and the other two she had partied up with to the entrance of the Mist Moon Inn. Once they had entered, gotten checked in, and settled down, Cirié had been met with Filip's continued unamused expression and disposition toward her.

"So about that payment…" Filip started, pulling up a seat and sitting across from the rogue woman.

"Hells… is the payment really all you're concerned about?" Cirié asked, irritably taking up the mug she had gathered, and downing about a third of the ale within. Wiping her lips, she continued, "I don't even know how much you want me to pay either of you. All I can honestly afford at the moment is only one-fifty each while also having enough to sustain myself for nights such as this."

"As two individuals far from their home, anythin' that can get Esther and myself some money to sustain ourselves is more appreciated than venturin' out without two copper pieces to our name after however long," Filip attempted to reason, waving over one of the other waitresses within the area and asking for a tankard for himself.

"Look, I can already see that you're going to make the attempt to guilt trip me, and it's honestly not going to work for you, bard," Cirié spoke, frowning as she placed her tankard of ale back upon the table's surface. Sitting up and then leaning on the table a bit, the rogue issued a tired exhale before reaching back and pulling out one of her pouches of coinage from her bandoliers.

"However…." Cirié placed the leather pouch of coins upon the table and gave Filip a scowl of indifference to their interactions. Leaning back in her chair after the item had been placed, Cirié continued, "as much as it pains me at times, I am a woman of my words unless with justified reason not to be. You and Esther don't appear to be… well… _my_ type, if that makes any sense…."

Staying reserved for the time being, Filip had taken up the money bag before opening it a bit and observing the gold pieces within. Expressing neither satisfaction nor dissatisfaction to what the contents were, Filip had gone to place the small bag within his own pouches that were slung around his hips. With an audible 'hm', Filip seemed to recoil a bit before relaxing into his own chair.

"So ya actually do take precautions when it concerns this kind of stuff. Not that I can blame ya… too many people that are naïve to the way others work is how many of them get the veil pulled over their eyes and get taken advantage of," Filip said after having suppressed his level of surprise to Cirié. While her rough and tough exterior certainly seemed to be the cause of conflict, it was at least good to know that her word was kept… even if only to a certain extent.

"Mhmm…" Cirié mustered, taking up her tankard once again and downing more of the ale. Once she had cleared the mug, she had halted the waitress within the dining area, asking her for a refill after she had placed a tankard in front of Filip.

"Well… if that's really it, and we're paid… then I suppose ya have no need of mine and Esther's services any longer?" Filip asked, his general sour disposition having receded… if only for this moment in time.

"Sure…."

"… Pleasure doin' business with ya then, lass." Pushing back and standing up from the table, Filip had taken up the tankard and left Cirié at her table. He had gone ahead to sit closer to Esther, who seemed to have been more content with sitting closer to the hearth.

Cirié was content with simply watching for a brief second as the waitress returned with another filled tankard. There were moments where the rogue had caught Esther peeking back at her every now and again, though did not think too much of it. From what Cirié could really discern, both she and Filip had been discussing matters, and as far as the Elven woman was concerned, it was probably just Esther being her general, oddly-socially-awkward self.

Thoughts on the two went dismissed until Cirié had looked over once more to see Esther advancing in her direction with some hesitation. While it was a little weird for Cirié to have considered people she only knew for just a week, tops, as allies… she supposed that it would not have hurt to get to know Esther at the very least. So long as the armoured woman had been willing to speak, or even so much as get out of her comfort zone when talking with Cirié, then there was reason for Cirié to have at least respected that.

"Filip t-told me that you were going to separate yourself from our group.… Will you be f-fine on your own?" Esther questioned, looking to Cirié rather quizzically before taking up the seat that Filip was in prior.

"Yep… that was the initial plan, anyways. I should let you know that I'm grateful that I was lucky enough to have found you both, and even more so grateful that the two of you were willing to even come with me to Waterdeep… so, for what it's even worth, you both have my thanks for accompanying me here. You can let your half-tankard tall friend know my sentiments as well seeing as I never really expressed proper thanks…" Cirié replied, giving a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders before taking another sip of her ale.

Esther had laced her fingers together over the table top for a moment, looking away and giving a weak smile. Clearing her throat to get prepared to speak once more, the auburn fighter had then gone on to say: "w-well… you also did tell us that you would tell us wh-what was on your mind. W-when we were back at the m-marketplace. Th-though I suppose you really d-don't have to t-t-tell me…."

"You're right… I really don't have to tell you," was Cirié's flat sounding response on the matter.

An expression of hurt had washed over Esther's face as she bit at her bottom lip and avoided eye contact with Cirié. It was something that had caused the woman to simply stay silent for several long moments.

"But I suppose I did say that I would…" Cirié concluded, frowning after she had withdrawn her hand from the tankard. "To put it briefly… I merely went to visit those that I consider dear to me. I was met by some grim news, if one would wish to call it that. So…from there, I'm merely tasked with honouring my loved ones' wishes… even if it does happen to fill me with a sense of dread."

"… This 'loved one'… are they someone you… married? Or is it f-family…?" Esther questioned, getting the impression that there was a lot that was being left out from what Cirié was telling her. However, Esther had to stop in that moment, knowing that it was not her place to poke and prod for more information from the woman before her.

"Family…" Cirié simply replied, casting her gaze to the top of the table with indifference.

"I see," Esther said, merely only attempting to give a form of acknowledgement more than anything.

"I believe that all that I can really say on the matter at this current time is that it perhaps will not be safe to travel with me for excessive amounts of time… at least that's what I gathered from my father when he told me to leave the city by this evening…" Cirié further elaborated, her eyes still glued to the table surface as she spoke. There was a certain inability to actually make eye contact with Esther at this time.

"Then you are at r-risk and require a-at least someone with you," Esther pressed, looking up to the Elven woman. Esther had furrowed her brow a bit, not entirely sure as how to reply to Cirié or even make certain suggestions to her.

"It is my burden, and no one else's. No one should really have to endure what I, personally, must go through or have on the horizon…."

"So long as you have friends… there's nothing that you have to do e-entirely on your own," Esther replied, giving a more genuine smile to Cirié.

The gentle response that came from Esther left Cirié momentarily stunned, and at a loss of words for a proper reply. In all the time that they had travelled with one another from the Mere of Dead Men, through the lowest point of the Sword Mountains, and actually having made it to Waterdeep within the last week… well, it was safe to assume that Cirié had not gotten to the point of seeing either Esther or Filip as friends at all.

"I suppose that that is a truth," Cirié softly said, sitting back up and retrieving her mug to take another swig from it. "To be honest, it would never occur to me that either of you would consider me as such. If I am to elaborate upon that truth, I will admit that I still do not see you or Filip as being anything greater than temporary travelling partners – acquaintances, if you will."

"I… I take it that you n-never really depended on anyone else…" Esther asked, giving Cirié a sheepish look once more.

"At one point, perhaps… until I decided for myself that I wanted to be independent." Cirié shrugged a bit as she gave a little more insight to herself. "I had an older brother who was always good at just about everything... and more times than not, it was always him that looked out for me, or stepped in to fight my battles. I grew fatigued of it… tired of always being expected to run to my brother for protection."

"Mmm… I suppose… a-as one with four older brothers… I… I can kind of share t-that sentiment," Esther lightly chuckled, a little unsure if she should be comparing herself with Cirié in any fashion.

"It is an unfortunate burden in many cases…. I have immense respect for those that can escape from a mould created by their surroundings and make a unique identity for themselves. When subjected to certain ideals or expectations from a young age, it is difficult to grow accustomed to believing something else sometimes," Cirié said, speaking rather fondly for the first time that she had been within either Esther or Filip's presence.

Esther had looked pleasantly bemused and surprised by what Cirié had opted to indulge in, and had then sat back within her chair with a calm expression. There appeared to have been a newfound respect from Esther's end when it concerned viewing Cirié for who she was. Even though first impressions were not the greatest between the two, there was definitely something worth exploring.

"Well… I'll leave you t-to it, then. I just… I just wanted to let you know t-that if you ever wanted my support, I will be happy to a-accompany you once more," Esther said, standing up. An afterthought had come to mind as she looked back down to Cirié and noted the purple and green colouration beneath the rogue's left eye.

"I… I should also give a more formal apology for wh-what I did to you. I w-would like to make it up to you a-at some point, if that is wh-what you wish," Esther claimed, bowing slightly to Cirié as both an apology and out of respect.

"Oh..? But I would have imagined that this journey was already just that," Cirié replied, confused to the proposition. "And you have already apologised to me before… several times, even."

"I-I know. I definitely know, C-Cirié. I just want you t-to know th-that this is of m-my own accord… w-without Filip's own say alongside mine," Esther elucidated, soon straightening her posture and looking to the smaller woman with a small smile.

"… That is… an appreciated gesture, Esther. Thank you," Cirié replied, taken aback by the declaration on the fighter's behalf.

* * *

Morning had rolled in, and the only reason that Cirié happened to have been awake earlier than what she had been used to was the fact that it felt like someone had been gingerly feeling along her person. Once she had woken up, the shadowed figure had instantly gone out the way he came as soon as Cirié had plucked her dagger from underneath her pillow for that evening – and that was out the window.

Cirié had a sour look upon her face as she ran her hand through her hair and had since closed the window. Having drawn the curtains and gathering up her clothes and supplies, Cirié had already made plans for departing from Waterdeep that evening. While it probably was not the wisest of decisions to have stayed within the city like her parents had said, it was unlikely that she would have made it far without a proper night's rest.

Preparing herself for a journey ahead, Cirié had fastened her two swords and her bandoliers to her body before slinging her cape around her shoulders, and gathering up what she could in her pack – which happened to include one of the books that had been taken from the shelves within the room. Once ready, the Elven woman had departed from her room, walking down the stairs and into the main area of the inn and placing her room key upon the desk.

Before Cirié even had the chance to reach the front door of the inn, Esther's voice had rang out, effectively causing the rogue to actually flinch rather visibly; "I thought that y-you would have been awake at this h-hour."

"By the Hells, Esther! Don't sneak up on people like that—…" Cirié had started to scold, soon stopping herself as soon as she realised just how hypocritical she started to sound. If anything, the rogue actually paused to take a moment and actually think about how impressive it was for someone who normally stomped around in armour whilst fighting or traversing.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry…. I d-did not mean to startle you, if th-that is what I did."

"… Actually, don't worry about it for now." Cirié had waved a dismissive hand and looked a little uneasy as she glanced about the area for anything that might have been out of place. "Was there a matter that you wanted to discuss with me, Esther?"

"I was just up early… though I suppose I can say that i-it is a good enough opportunity as a-any to see you off," Esther replied, her smile disappearing as she took notice of Cirié's actions. Clearing her throat and adjusting her gloves, Esther stayed quiet for now, merely waiting for what Cirié had to say before doing or saying anything.

"A nice gesture; I can appreciate it. Thank you," Cirié said, turning her attention back to Esther. "If that is all, then I shall wish both you and Filip the best, Esther."

Cirié had started again for the door of the inn, turning her attention away from Esther as she pushed the door open and walked out. While her gaze had darted this way and that, paranoid of who might be around, the Elven woman had started north for the gates.

"Cirié, wait!"

Pausing in her steps, Cirié had looked back to see Esther quickly making her way over toward her with something in her grasp. Giving the fighter a questionable look, the rogue was curious as to why the woman had come out. As far as Cirié knew, the two of them had pretty much established that they were parting ways.

"You forgot this…" Esther stated, holding out her hand and placing the item she held into Cirié's grasp as soon as she had outstretched her hand. "It's, ah… it's the amulet that you had h-handed off to Filip to ensure that you would uphold your end of the bargain to us. I-it was implied that it was i-important to you, so here you go."

Holding up the Amulet of Waukeen, Cirié had given a weak smile before setting down her pack and slipping the amulet around her neck. Hiding it from view and gathering her pack back up; the Elven woman had issued thanks before starting off again for her destination. This, however, seemed to have left Esther with a look of conflicted emotions upon her face.

"Before you go…. M-may I ask just where exactly you are headed off to from here?" Esther called out, taking a couple steps forward.

"… I was thinking back to Neverwinter. I think meeting back up with some of the contacts I have would be the best course of action I have at my disposal at current," Cirié replied, only turning her head to see Esther out of her peripheral vision. "Should you ever feel the desire to make your journey to Neverwinter, I suggest looking for the Sunken Flagon nearest the docks."

"Very well. Thank you," Esther said, not making motions to continue following along after Cirié.

"For what, exactly?"

"Entrusting me when you h-have no reason to."

"Ah…. Well… thank you for not giving me a reason to not trust you."

Leaving it at that, Cirié set off again, not looking back to see what Esther would have done, or decided to do. Within this moment, there was a certain plan in the rogue's mind as she traversed the streets, and had eventually made it to the intersection where the sign showed the road as being Skulls Street. A heavy sigh came from Cirié as she slowed her pace and looked about the buildings for a certain marking.

Taking pause in front of what looked to have been a shoddy tavern that read 'Spirit's Boon', Cirié had then gone ahead to entering the building. While it would have normally been closed – and even had the appearance of being as such, the door had swung open easily, and Cirié had slipped within, soon closing the door behind her and allowing for her eyes to adjust to her darkened surroundings.

"Da place is closed. Get yerself back outta my tavern an' come back when it's actually open," a raspy voice barked. A man that appeared to have been rather lean and rather tall had stood at the bar, taking care of counting up coin that had been scattered upon the surface.

"Well, that's certainly one way to treat the person you mentored for the first few years of her wanting to learn how to self-defend. I suppose it's nice to see you, too, Gundur," Cirié said with a hint of sarcasm. Not really heeding the man's words in the slightest, the rogue advanced inward before taking up a seat at the bar to be more within talking range of the Elven man behind the counter.

There was a momentary pause between both persons as the male of the two had jot down a couple notes before looking up to see the woman that had entered in his tavern. A toothy smirk had graced his lips as he brushed stray locks of unkempt black hair out of his face. Giving a low chortle, Gundur had said to Cirié, "din' think I'd ever be seein' you again, Cirié. Last I 'eard it, you was locked away in the prisons of Neverwinter, condemned."

"Yeah… that's before they provided me with a choice and I was actually able to see to it. The government of Neverwinter is more… forgiving than what Axle could ever be. As it is, that man has lost an infiltrator," Cirié remarked, giving a shrug of her shoulders and frowning at the memories.

"Axle an' Moire had been pretty clear in dem's reports concerning our alliance. Said you was just a detriment to dem's business," Gunder had elaborated, giving a shake of his head before scooping the coins upon the table into a pouch. "I s'pose you ain't 'ere fer any kind of formalities, d'ough, are ya, Ciri?"

"Not entirely, no," Cirié confirmed. Her facial expression hardened, and Cirié gazed at Gundur for a long moment before continuing, "I need any information that you can provide me with about the Umber Blade. Hopefully more of where I can find their base of operations."

Lingering over his bar top, Gundur had given Cirié a long, hard stare as he scrutinised her closely. There was an obvious expression of both disbelief and wonderment to his face, though there was also a level of malevolence in just the request alone. Standing back up, Gundur had taken up two tankards and filled them with ale, servicing them to himself and to Cirié.

"Da Umber Blade an' us ain't on too good'a terms dere, Ciri. What makes ya t'ink dat goin' after dem's a really good idea?" Gundur asked, mostly making assumptions about Cirié's plans.

"They threatened my family, and I have sufficient enough reason to believe that they were the cause of Torin's death," Cirié briefly explained, her brow furrowing and her jaw clenching after she had spoken. It was evident enough that she felt uncomfortable enough having to even recall the death of her brother, or the incriminating letter that her parents had received.

"Yer still on good terms wit' yer family? Dat's a little surprisin' to me. I t'ought da reason ya even turned to da Clipped Vale fer anyt'ing was cos'a yer brudda," Gundur said, soon taking several gulps of ale. Setting the tankard down with a satisfied sigh, he continued, "d'ough I suppose yer reasons are yer own."

"Mm…" Cirié looked pensive as she did her best not to really jump down Gundur's throat about her past. Taking in a deep breath to push away any creeping feelings, Cirié had made a proper response, "my feelings about living in my 'perfect' brother's shadow had always been a point of weakness for me, but I did not hate him for who he was… I hated anyone and everyone else that thought he was what I should have lived up to. I can safely say that thanks to your teachings and my own resolve that I can make a name for myself."

Another small chuckle had come from Gundur after he heard what Cirié had to say to him. However, his expression quickly went from amused to being a slightly agitated scowl. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Gundur said, "well, Ciri… dere really ain't too much I can do fer ya. Da Umber Blade are still reclusive types dat only come out in da night-time fer da most part. I know dat most of dems is former members of da Shadow Thieves of Amn… da ones dat stayed be'ind before deys 'ad gotten pushed out of Waterdeep, an' made ta get back to Athkatla. 'Owever, I t'ink dat yer best bet would to meet wit' a more recent addition to our Vale, Ruan Sampo."

"'Ruan'? I don't think I've ever heard of them…" Cirié said, thinking back and making the attempt to see if he his name was even remotely familiar.

"Nah, I wouldn't imagine ya would, Ciri. 'E actually came in from Daggerford – se 'e's a good ways away from 'is original 'ome," Gundur said, taking another couple swigs of his ale. "I'd watch yerself when wit' 'im, d'ough. Not just because of 'ow 'e 'appens ta be, but also cos 'e ain't exactly… common in dese parts."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean 'e ain't normal, Ciri. Da man commands attention if 'e's out in public."

"Then how is this guy a reliable contact?"

"Oh… you'll see once ya get ta meet 'im, Ciri. All I'm sayin' is dat ya need ta watch yerself. Yer already got a 'ead of notoriety among some of us – even if dere are dose dat know ya got yerself imprisoned in Neverwinter, dere will be dose dat are still interested in your permanent removal. Ot'er dan dat, Ruan is one _you_ need ta keep an eye on when ya wit' 'im."

"Alright… fine. I'll take your word for it. Now where can I find him?"


	4. Within Again

**Chapter Four: Within Again**

A slip of paper had been clutched tightly within Cirié's grasp, and her short sword had been drawn as she travelled through some of the sewer pipes that resided beneath the city. She had tied a part of her cloak around her nose and mouth, though the stench of the place still made her eyes water. However, Cirié had pressed onward, glancing about at every other odd sound, and making sure to keep herself moving relatively silent.

The map that Cirié held had been crudely drawn by Gundur before she had left the tavern he owned, and there was only so much of it that she could actually decipher. All-in-all, it was safe for Cirié to assume that she was significantly at a loss of where to really go, and what checkmarks to even look for.

It was not until Cirié had met with the faint bluish glow of a magically enchanted lantern that had been placed at the intersection of the pipes. Approaching it and looking in either direction, Cirié had taken her left further into the sewers after she had caught sight of another magically enchanted lantern not too far away.

"Whoever this Ruan guy is… he certainly likes his pretty magic colours," Cirié murmured to herself, closing the distance between her and the other lantern. There had been an entry point to a different section, and Cirié had moved the map down to look at it again within the lantern's light. Determining that this was the place to be, Cirié kept herself on her guard and stepped through the broken down bricks and into dark, cool cavern.

Having to place her free hand upon the wall to prevent her from slipping, Cirié had allowed for her eyes to adjust to the darker surroundings as she ventured deeper into the crevice. None of the area seemed too inviting, though Cirié had to pause in her tracks as she heard a slithering across the moist surface.

"I wouldn't suggest walking farther, Elf. State your business here," a voice called out from deeper within the area.

Effectively startled by the sudden voice, Cirié had halted and stood still. Taking the time to squint her eyes to see if her low-light vision could at least prove more useful, the rogue had glanced about. Cirié had caught sight of a bulky looking silhouette that was humanoid in shape, bore what looked like horns upon its head, and had a snake-like appendage swishing to and fro behind it. It was a shadow that caused a justifiable sense of dread within the Elven woman that stood there.

"… I… I was told that an individual by the name of Ruan Sampo could help me with some business I need taking care of. Are you him?" Cirié shakily asked, attempting to gather her wits and remain calm.

"Hmpf… referring to me as anything other than 'demon-spawn' or an 'it' is refreshing, to say the very least…" the voice called out. Soon, there was illumination from a lantern that glowed a bright sickly green, and had provided a face to both the silhouette and voice that had been speaking to Cirié in that moment in time.

"… I... would imagine…" Cirié said, attempting to sound empathetic. "Tieflings often get a bad reputation among many that aren't used to them."

"Tch, I need not the pity of yours, Elf. All you need to know is that you, at the very least, have my appreciation… so far…" the large male Tiefling went on to say. "I am the Ruan that you seek. Now state your business else I become tempted to run you though and let you die here like the other sewer rats that crawl through these tunnels."

"Right… well… I was recommended to you by Gundur at the Spirit's Boon. He said that you could help me with some issues I'm having with the Umber Blade," Cirié elaborated, furrowing her brow slightly as she recalled the letter that she had been shown by her parents. "At the moment, you're the only one that I believe can help me since I place much of my trust in Gundur."

Ruan had gazed upon Cirié, clearly taken aback by her request; however, he had gone over and taken a seat upon one of the crates that had been presumably taken from the surface. The Tiefling had rubbed at his chin before going ahead and shaking his head. With a slight scoff, he said to Cirié, "well… I _could_ help you… but there's honestly no reason for me to do that. What exactly do I gain by you helping me?"

After Ruan had asked his question, Cirié had thought about it before frowning to herself and cursing under her breath. Issuing a long sigh, she gave her honest response: "I… don't really know what I could give you that would be worth your while. I mean, there's always gol—"

"How correct you are. There certainly isn't anything that you could offer that would be worth my time in the slightest," Ruan interjected, standing up and walking over to a shoddy looking table made of barrels and broken pieces of wood. "However… there is something you _could_ do to _make_ it worth my while."

"… W-what… what would that be, exactly?" Cirié questioned, watching Ruan with extreme caution.

However, silence lingered in the air between them for a long moment before Ruan had given a sigh of his own. There was something forlorn about the way he expelled his breath, and then turned to Cirié. From what the rogue could tell, there was a solemn look within Ruan's gaze.

"This city and many other cities are cruel to my kind, as unfortunate as it is," Ruan had said, not really elaborating much upon what he wanted. There was another intake of air as Ruan paced across the small, illuminated cavern. Soon turning to Cirié, he explained a little more as to what he wanted her to do; "there is someone dear to me that has not returned here for the past several days. I've been rather rife with worry, and I would like to know that this person is okay."

"Oh? Who is this person?" Cirié asked, slowly becoming a little less tense.

"The person who I am referring to is my sister, Dayo. She's a little shorter than I am, and bears the same silver hair. It would pain me to know if something bad happened to her. So I ask of you this: for my helping you, I would like for you to see if you can find my sister within the Mere of Dead Men," Ruan said, giving Cirié a relatively stern look as he folded his arms over his chest.

The new objective seemed to have made Cirié's heart give a painful pang as it reminded her of her sibling and her inability to do anything. However, the new request was something that troubled her as well, and she spoke up about it; "… very well, but if I do go out there and do this… can I ask you to watch my family? It doesn't matter if it is from a distance, or if you decide to do it directly. I… I just want them to be safe."

A look of surprise fell upon Ruan's face as he heard the request, though it quickly hardened and he had frowned. It was clear that he was contemplating the idea greatly. Giving a slight snarl as he curled his lips, he then asked, "and what makes you think that I should, or that you should even trust me with this kind of request."

"… I know I shouldn't… but when I put it into perspective, I have a grasp over both yours and your sister's well beings," Cirié briefly explained, clenching and relaxing her fists out of nervous habit. "I know you live down here within Waterdeep's sewers, and I know that your sister is presumably within the Mere of Dead Men. If you're as afraid of those upon the surface as your living environment and your way of speech seem to indicate, then I can mention your name to the Waterdeep guard and allow for a witch hunt to ensue.

"It's not my most ideal thing to do… but my own family is at risk thanks to the Umber Blade, and if you're going to put them at risk by stalling my time in reaching them, then I can at least make that request before they strike my family as they have already threatened to do so."

Finding himself at a loss for words, Ruan had lingered upon every word that Cirié spoke, his expression going from agitated to something a little more understanding of the situation. While not at all happy with the ultimatum placed before him, he gave yet another snort before saying, "fine… I'll agree to your terms. It seems that we both have our own reasons, so I'll honour your actions of retrieving any information of or actually retrieving my sister by watching this… family of yours."

"I'm glad we could come to an agreement, Ruan. If that is all, I'll brief you on where you can find my family, and then I'll be off to search for your sister."

* * *

Having adventured back outside the city's walls, and then retracing her steps back to the Mere, Cirié had only considered speaking with Esther about that offer, though the woman had been nowhere to be found. Likewise, it seemed that Filip was also nowhere to have been found at the time, either. It was an unfortunate predicament, though the only assumptions that Cirié could have made were that they had either already started for Neverwinter, or they had their own agenda to keep to.

It was just a few days travel, though Cirié had finally made her way back into the Mere of Dead Men – this time keeping an eye for the woman that Ruan had described to her. It should not have been that hard – at least that was what Cirié had figured. After all, a Tiefling was not that hard to differentiate from the other races that roamed the world.

Taking in the musty smell that surrounded the area of the Mere of Dead Men, Cirié grimaced in disgust to herself that she was back within this place. With each step that Cirié took, she was finding herself regretting making a deal with Ruan. However, her own good conscience dictated her actions more times than not, and usually that was how Cirié found herself in more unfortunate events than not.

Passing by trees and having slain several giant spiders and beetles along the way, Cirié had taken pause at a small clearing. Tough the green fog still lingered over the lands, the Elven rogue had dismissed it from her mind – or at least did her best to do so. For now, she had been actively taking a break and munching on some of the trail rations that she had packed with her.

Moments passed, and the creeping paranoia had returned to Cirié as she put the rest of her rations away in her pack. Furrowing her brow in both agitation and worry, Cirié had done her best to listen to the surroundings around her. Unfortunately enough, however, there was nothing to have been heard at this current time – only the winds that blew through the leaves of the trees and bushes.

Making the attempt to push away whatever feelings she had, Cirié had gotten back up and persisted upon going deeper into the Mere. Withdrawing her short sword from her holster, however, Cirié decided that she was not traversing any further without being armed at the very least.

While the trip into the Mere was daunting and tedious, the Elven rogue had paused at a depression within the bog, having knelt down and observed the markings. Whatever had left the ground scathed was clearly not any of the weaker giant bugs that walked about… no, whatever had left these markings in the ground had gotten away, and from the looks of it, had an awkward gait.

As Cirié mused to herself over the markings, a snort sounded out before the rhythmic thumps of what could only be loud footsteps. Again, there was a kick of adrenaline that coursed through Cirié's body. Turning around and standing up, what Cirié saw coming after her was enough to make her face pale way more than anything else did within the last week.

A dire bear that looked enraged had trampled through brush and vegetation, soon getting up to its back legs upon seeing Cirié. Raising its arms to look more menacing, the dire bear roared out, clearly making the indication that it did not appreciate this unexpected visitor within its marshlands.

The first swipe that the bear made had been in Cirié's favour, luckily enough for her. As its claws were thrust forward, the bear had narrowly missed the Elven rogue. Taking this miss as an opportunity, Cirié had gone in to land a strike of her own to at least try and cripple it at the very least. Like the dire bear before her, however, Cirié's blade had only done enough to scrape the hairs upon the bear's skin. Perhaps it was that bout of fear that still plagued her.

Roaring in defiance, the bear had turned to face its opposition once more, and then charged forward with a single swipe. Cirié had been in just the right spot for the bear to land a hit upon the woman. Its claws tore through the leather armour that the Elf wore, and had effectively knocked her down with deep wounds within her chest and shoulder area. As Cirié gasped for air, she felt her vision going foggy.

"_Incertus pulchra imperio!_" a rather commanding voice had called out. Cirié had looked up and squinted some in her current state to see the blurry image of a woman in earthen coloured robes. However, her attention had to be drawn back to the dire bear, which seemed to have been calmed due to the woman's presence… or at least the incantation of which she spoke.

The woman had drawn close to Cirié, though the rogue seemed more inclined to make the attempt to recoil from the woman. However, that was futile as the unknown woman had grabbed Cirié's uninjured side and laid a hand upon the bloodied area with a firm hold. Suddenly, her hand began to glow, and a warm, tingly sensation had replaced Cirié's smarting pains and fear induced adrenaline.

Cirié's wounds had closed up some, and her vision was slowly coming back to her. Shaking her head and moving aside, the Elven woman had looked to the other that had been responsible for mending her. Feeling a little awkward, Cirié picked up her short sword that had been knocked from her grasp, and then looked back to the other female that had helped her.

"I'm grateful for your help, thank you," Cirié said, feeling a little lightheaded since she got up faster than she probably should have. Noting this, the woman had gotten up and steadied the other. Upon closer inspection, the woman that had helped Cirié lacked any and all features that she had been looking for, though it was curious that a robed person was out within these lands.

"Why do you trespass within the Mere?" the woman had asked, wasting no real time in small talk, or even formalities.

"There's someone I need to find," Cirié replied, frowning as she rubbed at the wounds that had not completely sealed over.

"Funny… there have not been any other trespassers here for the last few days aside from the lizard folk that live here," the woman replied, frowning in thought. "However, you must not linger here any longer. If you are to stay here any more than you already have, then the Mere will likely turn against you; some already have."

"I can't leave here until I've found who I'm looking for," Cirié said rather defiantly, bringing a hand up to her head and rubbing it. She had started to feel lightheaded once again, and had staggered to the side before finding a tree to rest against for the time being.

"Hmpf…" The robed woman had brushed locks of ginger hair from her gaze and looked around to the fog laden land. Giving an annoyed sigh to Cirié's response, she had replied with, "very well. If only because I care not to have outsider's blood spilled within the Mere, I will go out of my way to assist you in any small way that I can. If you defile the Mere or those within, I _will_ see to it that you will be either eradicated forcibly, or just outright terminated."

Narrowing her eyes, Cirié had said to the Mere woman, "I'm not an appreciator of threats, but for the sake of actually continuing my business here and stepping closer to my goal, then I'll let this particular interaction go for now. Threaten me again, however, and I'm not sure that you'll appreciate my actions."

"Just keep in mind that you're the one that was almost mauled by a bear," the woman replied, narrowing her eyes. "Now tell me who or what you're looking for so that this temporary alliance can be over and done with."

Giving a brief explanation to the description of Dayo that Ruan had given her, Cirié had sighed before running a hand through her hair and looking around her settings once more. The Mere woman had listened intently before looking relatively surprised by the description. Soon hardening her gaze, the robed Elven woman had straightened her stance before turning away from Cirié.

"Fortunately for you, I know who it is you speak of…" the woman started to say. Glancing back to Cirié, she continued, "unfortunately, however… she cannot leave the Mere."

"What? Why not?" Cirié asked abruptly, advancing a step toward the woman.

"Because leaving the Mere – leaving the Circle – would be abandoning those that taught her, and would damn her from the teachings of the Circle Elders," the woman went on to explain, turning back to view the rogue with a stern expression upon her face. "Now leave here. You have the only information that you shall be getting from me."

Clenching her jaw for a moment, Cirié frowned and looked back the way she came. Giving a long sigh, she had asked, "… can I at least camp for the evening? I'll need at least another few hours for my wound to heal over. At the moment, even with your healing, it would still serve as a detriment."

"No. Now leave here," the woman spat, turning back and starting to head the way she came before assisting Cirié.

"You speak of not wanting outsider's blood to spill upon the lands here, yet you walk away, leaving me here to die without proper guidance," Cirié quickly retorted, causing the other woman to halt within her tracks. "I didn't come here to initiate hostile words or actions unless treated in that fashion. I just came here so that I could ensure the safety of one's sister, and the safety of my family."

The woman lingered for a moment, furrowing her brow and bringing a hand to her chin momentarily before looking back to Cirié. There was a look of scepticism upon her face before she gave a slow response, "are you insinuating that the woman you seek, Dayo, is of your own kin? Because I, for one, would highly doubt such a thing, especially seeing as Dayo has never made any mention of siblings – or family."

"I do not seek her for my own satisfaction. I seek her for the satisfaction of her actual kin that resides within Waterdeep. He is unsure of her whereabouts, and worries greatly for her. At the very least, he wants news of her safety," Cirié attempted to explain, not having been able to really convey too much. As it stood, it really was not this woman's place to know too much about what was going on.

"Perhaps you should consider the fact that she had every intention to get away from the life of Waterdeep," the woman jeered, frowning and folding her arms over her chest.

"Everyone has their own reasons for choosing their own paths. However, it should not be taken for granted the emotions that tie and bind a family together," Cirié barked back, clenching her fists and attempting to keep herself straight in that moment in time.

"The Circle _is_ our family… and perhaps the only one we need," the Elven woman replied, frowning and looking to Cirié with discontent.

"Well I am _not_ making another two day trip back to Waterdeep without some kind of indication or shred of insight to Dayo's wellbeing. Now, you can either lead me to Dayo, or I can cripple you here and carve my path farther into the Mere in search of the girl. With or without your help, I will get Dayo's say on the matter, as you are not sufficient enough to provide me with what I need within this moment," Cirié said, gritting her teeth and pointing her blade for the woman.

The woman of the Mere had given a visible flinch as she stared to the blade that was aimed for her. Taking an uneasy step back, the unknown woman had straightened out her robes before giving Cirié a highly miffed look. With a sigh, it seemed that she finally caved to Cirié's wishes.

"If it means you staying your blade from cutting into me, then I shall be more cooperative," the woman said rather begrudgingly. "Though, it will be _your head_ if you dare threaten the Circle if we get that far into Meredelain. You have been sufficiently warned."

"A risk I am unfortunately willing to take if it means my end of the deal being upheld…" Cirié replied, lowering her sword and following after the woman. As the robed Elven woman lead the way, Cirié kept close, making sure to listen to her surroundings, and keep an eye on some of the area around them.

The journey with the robed Elven woman was a quiet one, which appeared to have little significance to Cirié. As far as she had been concerned, the less talking that either one of them had to do to one another, the less likely it was that Cirié found more of the robed woman's personality irritating. At this moment, the two of them had been able to cover a lot of ground, and the only words that were spoken was when the robed Elven had asked for Cirié to stay in a certain spot.

From the looks of things, there had been a large tree that grew several metres ahead of them. Squinting, Cirié could only make out an outline of the tree's trunk, and then looked up to see the leaves sway side to side. There was a faint flow that Cirié could make out, but it seemed that she was far enough away to be able to mistake it for the sickly fog's illusions.

Taking a seat upon a large rock, the wait did not appear to be that long. Only about seven minutes had passed before the robed woman that Cirié met had come back with another robed woman at her side. The only differences that this other woman bore were the horns and tail that indicated being a Tiefling. As Cirié observed the other woman, she noted the silver hair and golden eyes that were what she needed to be able to tell whether or not this Tiefling woman was who she had been looking for.

Before Dayo or the other woman had exchange words with Cirié, they had first said some things to one another in a language that the rogue did not understand in the slightest. Though it seemed weird, she supposed that she had no real place to complain. After the two robed individuals had finished up what they had to say, the one that led Cirié here had turned and walked back off into the fog toward the faint glow.

"So you are from the city, Waterdeep?" the Tiefling asked, brushing silver locks of hair from her face as she gave Cirié a kind of perplexed look.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm here on Ruan's behalf," Cirié replied, frowning slightly as she had gone to sheathe her blade now that she had no real reason to have it out.

"Ruan…? You're here because of my brother? What reason would some random person have for that? Very few people in Waterdeep even have the time to assist individuals like us – what is your reason or motive for even wanting to associate with Tieflings?" Dayo asked, narrowing her gaze upon Cirié and drawing her hands before her.

"Because… my own family would be at risk if I were not to have found you to be able to either bring you back, or at least give me some kind of proof that you are well to bring back to your brother," Cirié said, frowning as she thought about what words she should choose when speaking with the Tiefling before her.

"So then you are here for selfish reasons," Dayo said rather plainly.

"To an extent, yes. But that doesn't mean that I approve of the way people treat you or other Tieflings that are within this side of Faerûn. Your brother fears the surface, and only wants validation that you are well," Cirié said, nearly pleading for the silver-haired woman to follow along after her back to Waterdeep – even if only temporarily.

"Why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be a guard or soldier that was sent to get me and then bring me to the gallows to be hanged for simply being an abomination."

"But… I don't believe that you _are_…. Why is it so hard to believe that I would want something better for the both of us? I know that it's hard within the walls of Waterdeep – or, Hells – even a place like Neverwinter. Many of the residents treat others with scorn or distain, but I am honestly not here to out you as a Tiefling. I don't believe that because you are spawned of demons that all of you are liars, or always up to no good. We all have our reasons to trust or to not trust, however, I implore you to believe what I say," Cirié attempted to reason.

There was clear hesitance within Dayo, and as Cirié watched her, it seemed as though Dayo considered Cirié's words on the matter. As the rogue waited for a response, she had done her best not to break eye contact to show the Tiefling that she meant what she had spoken. In due time, Dayo had given a small sigh before looking back to where she had come from, a look of both confusion and demur.

"I… don't think I will. But if you are telling the truth, then you can take a letter to my brother. I'm sure he will recognise my handwriting," Dayo finally said. Reaching into the pockets of her robes, she had pulled out what looked to have been a blank scroll, and then an ink pen, and a vial of magenta ink.

"I'm not too sure he'll be happy with the turn out, but I suppose that this is better than nothing at all," Cirié concluded, giving a small sigh as she waited for Dayo to write her letter and be done with it. Once Dayo had finished up her letter, Cirié then asked, "though… about the trip back. It's about a two day travel. Could you at least provide me with _some_ form of potion or healing… thing…."

Getting handed the letter, Cirié had tucked it away in one of her bandoliers before giving Dayo a half expecting look. While the robed Tiefling looked and acted hesitant on the matter, she had looked to the broken apart leather and the wounds that had failed to heal entirely. Giving a slight 'hmpf' and then repressing a yawn, Dayo walked over and placed her hand upon Cirié's shoulder.

Again, there was that glowing, and the rather wonderful sensation of warmth and fuzziness washed over Cirié's neck, shoulder, and collar area. Noticing that the area also appeared to feel a little tighter, Cirié looked down and saw that even her leather armour had also been mended by the Tiefling. A little impressed by the handiwork, Cirié gave a slight smile to Dayo.

"Thanks… and, uh…" Cirié started, looking around. "Best of luck to you here in the Mere of Dead Men. May good fortune line your path."

"And to you," Dayo stated, her look of indifference not really leaving her face.

* * *

"So, she's taken up the teachings of the Circle of the Mere, it says. Hmpf… I knew that she was more in tune with nature and all of that, though I suppose it's still a surprise that she would want to actually learn druidic teachings. I suppose I won't press her any further on that," Ruan had said, having read over the magenta writing several times over.

Cirié had sat upon one of the barrels that was in the dimly lit cavern that Ruan called 'home', and had been playing with a silver piece. With an indifferent look upon her face, the rogue had only looked about the room to see what else Ruan had been settled with. It really was a pitiful excuse for a home… now that Cirié was actually getting a clearer look at the place.

"Well… I suppose I can't be angry if that's what Dayo really wants. As promised, I watched over your family – preferably from a distance so as to not draw too much attention to myself," Ruan started to say, having caught Cirié's attention within that moment. "There had not been any real attacks upon your family's home within the time that you were gone, but from the way your folks happen to carry themselves, it's really clear that they're pretty paranoid about what might be waiting for them every time they go out."

"Yeah… I gathered that much the last time I went to visit them," Cirié sighed, putting her silver piece away and pocketing it. "Anyways… I should thank you for upholding your end of the deal in that regard – so thank you for keeping an eye out for my mum and pa."

"And I thank you for being able to locate my sister," Ruan replied, folding up the letter neatly and putting it into a small chest that was next to a pile of rags – presumably where Ruan had slept. "Though, this does mean that I must uphold the other part of the agreement. I'll tell you where you can find the Umber Blade and their leader. However, should you choose to pursue them, I have but one condition."

Giving Ruan a quizzical look, Cirié quirked a brow and then stated, "tell me."

"You take me with you. I have issues of my own I need to clear with them," Ruan briefly explained. "I would have gone after them several nights ago, but I'm sure I would have had more trouble than I would have wanted during any execution of plans."

"… I suppose your status as a Tiefling would be troubling to the night Waterdeep guards. Hm..." Cirié replied, giving some thought into Ruan coming with her. "Though, I suppose I could use whatever help I could get as well. One versus many isn't exactly the gamble I like looking at. While I may pride myself upon infiltration, that and combat are two things that I find are on opposite sides of the spectrum."

"Then we're settled?" Ruan asked.

"Yes."

"Very good. Then allow for me to explain the quickest way to get to the Umber Blade without attracting as much attention. Much of our travel will have to use the sewer system."

"… Great. I love the sewers."


	5. Ruan

**Chapter Five: Ruan**

A couple of days had passed, and Cirié had made recurring visits to speak with Ruan about their plans to infiltrating the prime Umber Blade base within the walls of Waterdeep. As soon as they had figured most of it out, they had then gone ahead to putting it into action one evening when they had been both prepared.

Both Cirié and Ruan travelled through the sewer system with nothing but a dim light – thanks to the Elven woman being able to see with low-light, and the Tiefling male having darkvision, the two of them had been able to make decent headway. However, Ruan seemed to have found amusement in watching as Cirié constantly adjusted her cloak so that she did not have to take in too much of the smell.

"How much father till we get to a safe location, Ruan?" Cirié asked, her voice slightly muffled by her cloak.

"Just a few more paces ahead. It's the next ladder we'll find, from there, you'll have to follow my lead," Ruan said.

Before too long, the duo had reached the ladder, and Ruan had dislodged the manhole cover. Assisting Cirié out of the hole, Ruan then placed the cover back on and had silently motioned for the other rogue to follow along after him. Passing through the back alleys and dodging any of the other shady fellows that looked to have been roaming the streets at this time of night as well.

Passing several homes and buildings, Ruan had hunkered down, then made it apparent that Cirié should follow his example. Furrowing his brow as he contemplated certain actions, Ruan had quickly and quietly said to the Elven woman, "the house ahead is where most of the Umber Blade go to. They overlook certain ledgers, and make sure that they have a good supply of certain weapons and armaments. We might be in trouble if we make too much of a ruckus. We'll need a distraction before heading within."

"Great… any good ideas on that aspect? I don't exactly have any explosive arrows, or fire arrows," Cirié replied, frowning.

"You won't need such items," Ruan replied, frowning as he reached into one of the pouches upon his person. It was then that he revealed several small phials and flasks of glowing, or at least different coloured liquids. Some of which that Cirié recognised as Acid Flasks or Alchemist's Fire.

"With these, anyone smart enough to look at the placement of an arrow can't really track back to where it came from. I'll just wait for an opportune moment to throw the Alchemist's Fire over the gate, and we should be good to sneak in while everyone else is distracted," Ruan explained, looking back past the barrels and crates that he and Cirié were hunkered close to.

"Huh… so you do come prepared to events. That's… actually really nice to know. Good on you," Cirié complimented; she was rather surprised by the fact that Ruan had been able to procure such items. Her thoughts had wandered to wondering how exactly Ruan had made a living from the sewer, and that was when pieces started to click together and make a more understandable image in her mind.

"Heh, well, it's good to know that you and I have more in common than I originally thought as well, Ruan," Cirié said with some relief. The slightest hints of a smile curled upon Cirié's lips as she edged a little closer next to the Tiefling and poked her head up over the empty crates and supply containers. For now, she was looking at the two guys that stood past the gates to the destination.

"How do you mean, uh… well, now that I think about it, you never did disclose your name," Ruan realised, turning back to look up over the cover as well again.

"Oh… I guess I never did. I suppose it's only fair to entrust it to you. The name's Cirié Acwulf – though this really isn't too much the time to exchange formalities," the Elven rogue said, keeping that particular interaction short. Glancing about once more to see if there were any choice locations to make a break in, Cirié had ducked back down after not really being able to see anything too reasonable.

"In any case, I suppose we can save that conversation for later. If we keep chatting back here, someone might pick up on us and come by to investigate," Cirié continued, giving a slight sigh. Changing topic, the rogue went on to say, "there are two at the gates that I could see. Most likely to surprise anyone dumb enough to just try and waltz through the front door. Alternatively, they're there to 'greet' anyone curious enough to approach. Either way, it'd be best for us to avoid them."

"Indeed it would be. I'm not interested in being recognised," Ruan scoffed. Taking some holstered rope from his person, and a grappling hook from being strung upon his belt, he had quickly fastened one end of the rope. Making another motion for Cirié, he handed off the rope to her.

"What's all this?" Cirié asked, taking up the rope.

"You'll be light enough to use it without worry. As for me, I'll be making the attempt to slip in without too much detection after tossing one of my Alchemist's Fire flasks," the Tiefling replied, giving a slight shrug and a small smirk. Though he sounded confident enough, his expression said otherwise.

Slinging the rope and hook over her shoulder, Cirié gave a nod to acknowledge what Ruan had to say and watched as he had gotten up and started to move silently toward the wall surrounding the building they needed to get into. Peeking up back over the ledge of the containers, Cirié noted that none of the people stationed outside really seemed to have noticed too much in the way of Ruan… which was all well and good.

Tossing two flasks of orange liquid, they had arced high into the air before plummeting downward to the far end of the walled-in area. The flasks had shattered, and immediately fires had ignited the immediate area within a seven food radius from where the flasks had hit. Just as soon as the embers caught upon other flammable surfaces and spread, the sounds of confused and panicked persons within the walled area could have been heard.

Seeing this as a more than opportune moment, Cirié had rushed from the side of the building and away from the containers. Looking about again as she ran, the rogue had soon stopped before facing the wall and taking up the rope. Twirling it about to allow for it to gain some momentum, Cirié then flung the rope upward and watched as it flew over the wall's ledge. Tugging on the rope, the grappling hook clutched onto a good footing and Cirié had started her ascension to climbing over the wall.

Grasping the steel hook before hopping from the wall, Cirié quickly gathered it back up and slung the rolled up rope around her shoulder once more. Looking about to see if there was anyone else that she should have been worried about, Cirié had noticed nothing of real concern and started to traverse toward the back of the building whilst looking for a door.

Ruan, on the other hand, had waited patiently at the gates for a chance to slip in undetected. From the looks of things, those that were around were concerned with the fire and had been calling for help from the others to assist in putting it out. Noting some others coming from the building to see what exactly the ruckus was, it was not until those that were there were sufficiently enough occupied with the fire that the large Tiefling actually slipped into the area and kept close against the wall. Not really looking back, Ruan traversed away from the commotion and hopefully met back up with Cirié.

With the fire being the others' top priority, Ruan had been able to locate Cirié knelt down and working quickly to unlock the door that she had been crouched at. The lock had clicked unlocked as soon as the Tiefling had neared the Elven woman, and he gave a low chuckle.

Slowly opening the door and peering inside, Cirié looked around and saw that not everyone had gone outside, but from the looks of things, a fair majority had. Luckily, it seemed that no one had been paying attention to the door that both Cirié and Ruan started to go through. Most of them had been more curious about the fact that there had been an 'attack' upon the building.

"What are you lazy good-fer-nothin's still doin' in here? Get on out there and help get those fires put out! If it spreads too much, we'll have to evacuate the area!" barked out a gruff voice. It had successfully made both Cirié and Ruan go to hide nearby, and they had peeked over to see the figure of a person walking down the stairs not too far away. Revealed was a Human male who bore an eye patch over his right eye, and wore some nicer looking leather armour than the others upon his person.

"Sorry, sir..!" one of the lackeys had said abruptly, having been startled. The other three persons that had been within the building had shuffled through the front door to assist the others outside, and the man that had come from the stairs. Keeping a sharp eye upon the others as they walked out, the man then made haste to climbing back up the stairs.

"Of course he would want to take priority of his… 'possessions'…" Ruan quietly and sarcastically remarked, both he and Cirié starting to prowl about once more. This time, their goal had been to ascend the stairs and follow after the more rugged looking man.

"Anything I should know about that guy we just saw? It sounded like you knew him," Cirié whispered, reaching the top of the stairs and looking back down once more to make sure that no one was coming in. The only thing of concerned seemed to have been the smoke that had started to billow in through the windows, and other cracks in the foundation.

"Neidin? I guess the only thing I can think of is the fact that he's almost as ruthless as he looks," Ruan replied, his expression showing some unease he and the rogue woman had taken momentary pause.

"'Almost'?" Cirié repeated, a little intrigued by the insinuation there of.

"Heh… don't get the wrong idea from my wording; the only things he really cares about are himself and his treasure. He's a collector of sorts – and seems to have a liking for items that bear powerful magical properties," Ruan elucidated, giving a slight frown. Nudging Cirié and motioning forward, Ruan lead the way further into the second floor.

Approaching a door that had been left slightly ajar, both Ruan and Cirié had listened in to the hurried sounds of a person pushing through papers, opening drawers, and making a general fuss over certain things. Standing up straight, Ruan had looked to the Elven woman for a brief moment before drawing one of the short swords upon his person and then pushing the door wide open.

The man known as Neidin had been occupied with looking for things and shoving things into pouches or pockets on his body. Seeing this only made the smirk upon Ruan's face grow even wider as he stepped only a couple paces into the room.

"Still fretting over your collection of goods, Neidin?" Ruan had taunted as he stood at the doorway since the other man had halted his sifting and careless looking around.

For a moment, Neidin looked a little taken aback before narrowing his gaze to the Tiefling before him. With a slight snarl, Neidin had slammed one of the drawers at his desk. Taking up a short sword from one of the several weapon racks that had been lined up in the room, the Human male had pointed it toward Ruan. In response, Ruan's tail had flicked in annoyance and his own gaze had hardened.

"I was hopin' that you demon spawn rubbish would have just died under the streets of Waterdeep," Neidin spat, furrowing his brow. "But seein' as yer here without that sista of yers, that she's likely passed off? Heh, good riddance if that's the case."

"What an unfortunate time it must be… because that sister of mine your tried selling off lives. However, I'll see to it that you won't be able to live long enough to be able to see her own wicked grin to your demise, Neidin," Ruan replied, it being rather evident that he was supressing a certain rage within his words. Advancing into the room, Ruan had made sure that there was some space for Cirié to have taken action if she had been prepared.

"Well then, we'll see about that, Ruan. One of us falls tonight, it seems," Neidin chuckled, charging for the Tiefling and swinging the sword. It had been just enough space within the area for Ruan to side step and avoid being cleaved by the blade. In the process, Ruan had made motion to stab at the other party.

The blade of Ruan's sword had caught into Neidin's armour and tore at it, only giving Neidin a shallow cut. Giving a small scoff to the lack of damage, Ruan had regained his composure and stared down the other man. Both of them had stood at the ready, and Neidin had come in again for another attack. This time, however, his blade had come into contact with Ruan, effectively cutting into one of the Tiefling's horns.

Cirié listened in while the sounds of Ruan's pained yells rang out through the second floor of the building. Gritting her teeth as she strung composite short bow, Cirié attempted to quicken her actions without making too much noise that would have attracted attention to her. Thankfully, even with the rising fears that Ruan would not have been successful in his own endeavours, the Elven rogue had gotten her bow ready and then took up an arrow from the quiver under her cloak.

In Ruan's greater anger, he had swung his blade for the Human and cut into the man. It appeared to have done a small fraction of damage as Neidin had only stumbled backward a bit from the impact. His attention had gone from Ruan to the smoke that looked to have been rising and thickening as time went on.

"Is that really the best that you've got, Ruan? I would've expected demon spawn like you to have more finesse than that," Neidin condescendingly jeered.

"No, it's not the best he's got. Unfortunately enough for you, he's got friends that you most likely weren't expecting after his initial appearance," Cirié said loud enough to draw the Umber Blade's attention. The Elven rogue stood at the doorway with her bow drawn and an arrow at the ready.

There was a momentary look of surprise upon Neidin's face, and then it had turned to anger. Before Neidin had an opportunity to make move upon the woman, she had let go of the bowstring, allowing the arrow to sail through the air and pierce through man's leather armour.

Neidin had staggered a bit as the arrow lodged itself into his abdominal area. Looking down to the arrow, the man had gritted his teeth before turning his attention to Cirié more fully and using his surge of adrenaline to make a swipe for Cirié as soon as he had gotten close enough to do so. Unfortunately enough for him, his injury had led to a stagger that made the man buckle and cough up some blood from internal injury and exertion.

"Hmpf… when one goes after something precious, the only thing you can expect is for people to be out for your life, Neidin. You only stayed safe for so long because of your own cowardice," Ruan coldly said, striding over toward the Umber Blade man and playing with his sword before leaning in and placing the sharpened side of the blade to the man's neck.

"Wait, Ruan…" Cirié said, closing her own distance and watching as the Tiefling had disarmed the sword from Neidin's grasp. However, the scent and the sight of smoke indicated that neither one of them had as much time as one would have liked.

"What is it, Cirié? I'd rather be done with this and bleed him dry like the pig he is," Ruan growled, furrowing his brow as he lifted the Human up to his feet, and continued to keep the blade of his short sword pressed against Neidin's neck.

"I want to know why he targeted the Acwulf family – or rather, why that stupid shard is so important," Cirié sneered, taking tight hold of the protruding end of the arrow and moving it ever so slowly this way and that. Neidin had given a pained groan and squirmed in Ruan's hold.

"H-heh… ah, Cirié… I was hoping you died within Athkatla after we had… dispose of… your brother. Unfortunately for us, we had no i… idea that you were… arriving back in Neverwinter rather than… Waterdeep…" Neidin said, giving a forced chuckle, and then giving a pained grimace.

"That obviously wasn't the case; now tell me what I want to know..!" Cirié replied between clenched teeth, she had twisted the arrow and increased pressure into the protrusion. As Neidin shut his eye tight, and seemed to clench his fists to make the attempt to endure the pain, Cirié had hardened herself to not feeling sympathy or compassion for the man.

"Th-the shard… c-comes from gith l… legends…. It… it's a silver shard from… gith... A… an entire silver s-sword would have been… better…. But… that was… the only one I could f-find. You a-are marked for death anyways… being a protector of the… shard…" Neidin had said, gasping out and writhing further.

"Gith… hmpf…. Then I have no further use for you. Suffer in the Hells for what you've done," Cirié darkly said, ripping her arrow from the man and turning away. Neidin's yelps of pain from the sharp pain that the Elven rogue had caused left him in great pain. Shortly followed after were the gurgling gasps, and then the thump of a body, indicating that Ruan had gone ahead with disposing of Neidin then and there.

"If there's anything of value here that you would wish to grab, now would be the chance for you to do so, Cirié," Ruan said, wiping the blood upon his sword on his pants and then sheathing it. "We'll have to make it quick before the fire gets any worse. It seems that the others outside weren't able to put out the fire at all."

"Yeah… I guess it would be good to get some stuff that's in here before it's either rendered useless, or scavenged after the fire if they're still in good condition after the fires are put out," Cirié replied, taking her cloak and wrapping a part of it around her nose and mouth to act as a filter. Putting her bow up and looking about, Cirié's attention had been more focused on the potions that had been lined up on one of the shelves in the room.

Pushing some of the empty phials out of the way, Cirié had taken up some of the other containers that had actually been full. Placing six phials into the pouches that were slung around her hips, Cirié had glanced about again for anything that would have been of use, or of interest. Ruan had taken up one of the other swords that seemed to stand out more upon the weapon racks and had sheathed it within its scabbard before slinging it over his her shoulder and looking about for anything else.

After several moments of looking with their time ticking away, Cirié had managed to grab several rings that looked important, and even an amulet looking item. Storing them in her bandoliers, she had gone to the window at the back of the room and pushed them open. At this point, the smoke had made it so that it was hard to really see anything without tearing up.

Leaping from the window and landing close to the edge of the fires, Cirié rolled upon landing, feeling a painful twinge in her ankle. She had gasped out for a moment before curling on the ground and then attempting to push herself back up onto her feet. She had stumbled again as Ruan had jumped down next to her without too much difficulty.

"Are you okay, Cirié?" Ruan asked, noting Cirié's babying of her left leg. There had been a cloak that was wrapped around his shoulders for the time being, though Ruan's attention had been focused upon the Elven rogue. When he had not received a response too quickly, he had wrapped an arm around Cirié's waist and allowed for her to use him as an anchor for now.

* * *

Dawn had cracked on the horizon as Ruan had been able to assist Cirié back toward his lair beneath Waterdeep. Doing his best to not stress out his partner at this current time, he had taken most of it slowly and had taken pause every now and again when she had winced or given a gasp from pain. However slow it might have been, they had made it back, and the Tiefling had been able to get Cirié seated on a flat surface.

"Thank you, Ruan… I think I should be fine for now. I just need some time to take a rest and stretch out my ankle. I'm pretty sure it's sprained more than it is broken," Cirié said, rotating her ankle for a moment. A troubled expression befell her face, though the pain had certainly died down since having leaped from the second floor of the Umber Blade building.

"As deplorable and undesired as staying within my abode may be, you are welcome to stay here with me till you're feeling well enough to get back up on your own two feet," Ruan offered, going over and placing the cloak and other items that he had received upon the makeshift table within the area.

"That's really generous of you. I think I might just take you up on it. I'm not really feeling up to walking back to the inn I was staying at the past few nights," Cirié said, relaxing a bit as she unfastened the bandoliers from her person, and then placed them within one of the many empty crates within the manmade cavern.

"Well, I'm happy you feel that way. I'm more than willing to consider you a friend, Cirié. After what you've done for me, and how much I've actually enjoyed our interactions with one another – even if many of our conversations were centred on what we would do upon infiltration. I suppose actually having some company to exchange friendly words with was better than wallowing down here, disliking everyone else," Ruan explained, giving a slight chuckle.

Cirié remained silent after Ruan had spoken, and she had repeated Ruan's words in her mind several times over. It was a phrase… a term that she had not really been all too used to. In fact, there were more times than not that Cirié tended to actually avoid developing any kind of lasting relationship with any one person in particular.

"I… I'm glad to provide that kind of comfort, I suppose," Cirié replied, rubbing at the back of her neck before looking down at her lap. "Sorry, I'm just… not really used to staying around long enough for anyone to consider me a friend. Maybe people would refer to me as a colleague, or even an equal in the sense that we were good at what we did within our field of work; but friend usually wasn't a term or a title I wore among those I knew."

"I suppose that that's something that I can understand," Ruan said, feeling his horns and touching upon the part where Neidin had been able to chip away at the appendage. "I won't take offence to your own feelings on the matter. After what I have been through, I can safely call myself a patient person. I can at least take solace in knowing we're on decent terms with one another."

"To be honest, I am also glad that we're on good terms. No offence, though it looks like you could easily snap me in two if I actually was on bad terms with you," Cirié said, half actually joking with the Tiefling. The Elven woman had actually cracked a smile when Ruan had laughed at the friendly jab.

Left to their own devices for the time being, silence fell between both Cirié and Ruan in that moment before the Tiefling had paused. There was a thoughtful look upon his face as he turned his attention back upon Cirié and then opened his mouth to ask her a question; "so… when I asked you to seek my sister… about what you had said…."

"Was only said out of fear than anything…" Cirié interjected, frowning and looking away as she actually felt a pang of guilt from that prior interaction. "In the end, since my worries took precedence, I likely would not have acted upon it unless you were to have threatened mine or my family's lives."

"I guess that's comforting to know." Ruan had taken his hand from feeling the new grooves in his horn and he had then gone closer to the pile of rags that had occupied the driest part of the cavern. "Did you need a blanket?"

"N-no… it's fine. I'll use my cloak. Thing's been with me and has seen me through chilly nights for several years now," Cirié declined. "Thanks, though. I also don't happen to plan on staying long. I need to get back toward Neverwinter to meet with my uncle concerning that shard I have. He might know more about it – I trust him more than some uncle that was never around when I was younger…."

"Would you mind company in your journey?" Ruan asked rather suddenly after Cirié had finished.

"You want to come with me?"

"Travelling with you would be better than remaining here within a dank cave that branches out from sewers," Ruan said rather flatly, giving a small frown and moving some stuff around. "I'd be more comfortable actually getting out of here and travelling with someone I hold with better regard than most of the population of who resides here. That said, staying underneath the city really isn't a way to live, that's for sure."

"I can assure that that's no way I would personally want to live," Cirié replied. "I suppose it wouldn't be… a bad thing… if you were to travel with me. I suppose two individuals would be better than one on the road. Especially with what one could meet on the way to their destination."

Taking a moment, Cirié had found it a little awkward to offer companionship. Even when it had concerned Esther and Filip did the Elven woman have her reservations about the whole 'partnering up' thing. Clearing her throat, Cirié then went on to say, "I suppose that what I'm saying is that I wouldn't mind you accompanying me when I actually get going."

"This means a lot to me, thank you," Ruan said, taking a seat upon the pile of rags upon the ground.

"Well, I'm not a total arse," Cirié amusedly scoffed, leaning back against the cavern wall and closing her eyes for a bit. "But yeah, it's really no problem. The only thing you need to know is that I usually end up running into a lot of trouble."

"That won't be too much of an issue, I'm sure," Ruan replied.

"I hope not. We got lucky with Neidin and not having to deal with his other grunts back there… but there's no telling whether or not they'll be wondering who hit them," Cirié said, sighing somewhat and relaxing a bit. For now, both Ruan and Cirié needed some rest before hitting the road back to Neverwinter.


	6. Touched by Nature

**Chapter Six: Touched by Nature**

Avoiding much of the gazes and whispers that spread through people after both Cirié and Ruan had woken up and set out in the afternoon, the duo had exited the city. Luckily, it seemed that even though there was some difficulty with getting started for the day, both rogues had managed to make do with what they had. Between the two of them and having picked up some more rations for their travels and had some of the items that had been able to pick up from the Umber Blades identified. Both Ruan and Cirié had been set for the week it would have taken them both to get to Neverwinter.

Unfortunately, three days into their travels, Cirié and Ruan were stopped within the Sword Mountains by Orcs that happened to lurk the area. With what it seemed, the Orcs were more offended by the appearance of the Tiefling than they were of the Elven woman that was with him. Though, once Cirié had stepped in to defend Ruan did the Orcs go and become hostile toward her as well.

"This is really just all and brilliant, isn't it…" Cirié grumbled, having woken up that morning with a bit more of a sour attitude than usual. As it was, she and Ruan had their blades drawn and at the ready as a group of three Orcs had halted any continuation upon the mountain trail that Cirié had carved into her mind after having to travel it three times already.

"I'm a little surprised that there are Orcs up here, to be honest," Ruan had said, smirking to himself more than anything. He had hurried up to one of the Orcs before them, and had swung his blade around. As Ruan had executed his attack, he did so the Orc as well. As the blood had spattered out and onto the ground, the Orc that Ruan executed had fallen to the ground, dead.

Seeing their ally fall, the other two Orcs had stalled in their attack, giving Cirié just enough time to be able to sidestep past Ruan and rush in. Leaping up and throwing her weight into stabbing downward into one of the other Orcs' heads, Cirié had successfully executed the other individual that had dared to threaten them.

Roaring out in anger and yelling what was assumed as profanities in Orcish, the last orc had targeted Ruan since he had been closer. Thrusting the falchion that he had, the Orc had managed to pierce through Ruan's armour, cutting him deep and making him snarl in anger. There was a moment where Cirié could have sworn she had seen the Tiefling's eyes glint with a burning rage.

However, now that the Orc had closed the distance, it allowed for Ruan to make a point blank attack. As Ruan had lifted his blade, however, the pain that surged through his side from being stabbed had caused him to flinch and drop his weapon.

Clenching her teeth, Cirié had come in from behind, cutting down the Orc that had Ruan. As the Orc slumped like the others, the Tiefling had left out another snarl of pain as he kicked the Orc's body away. The falchion that the Orc held remained lodged within Ruan's body, and the Tiefling had grasped the blade before taking in a deep breath to psych himself up.

Cirié winced as Ruan had jerked the blade from his person and tossed it to the ground. After he had managed to take in a few breaths to calm himself down and allow for the smarting to subside. Already, Cirié had dug into one of her bandolier pouches before pulling out a phial that contained an ultramarine coloured liquid – it had a label that read 'Potion of Cure Light Wounds' upon it. Bringing it over to Ruan, she removed its seal cork and handed it off to him.

"Thanks…" Ruan muttered, using his free hand to take the phial and bring the concoction up to his lips. After he had downed it, the Tiefling had ran his teeth over his tongue several times over, clearly not liking the flavour of the potion that had been handed off to him. "Ech… for a Potion of Cure Light Wounds, it certainly isn't as sweet as I'm used to…."

"Guess that different brewers have different ways of making things. It's fortunate for us that most merchants actually have the better tasting ones," Cirié said, chuckling softly as she watched Ruan toss the emptied vial to the side.

It took a moment, though the bleeding had stopped, though the wound had not closed over fully. It had made Ruan give a slight shrug to the condition, though he had been able to stand straight and collect his short sword. There was a little bit of a bitter expression upon the Tiefling's face, however he made no real remark or comment upon his injuries before looking to Cirié.

"We should continue to walk along. The faster we get to Neverwinter, the better…" Ruan had said, wiping the muck from his sword and putting the blade away.

"Agreed," Cirié replied. While she did agree that they would have been best covering as much ground as possible, the rogue had gone ahead to searching the bodies for anything that either one of them could have used. For the most part, it had just been extra gold pieces; of course, there was going to be no complaining on the Elven woman's part.

After Cirié had finished, she tossed one of the pouches that was on one of the Orcs to Ruan. Once those things had been secured, the Elven woman had gotten back up to lead the way through the lower points of the Sword Mountains. Ruan had followed along behind, though appeared to lag a bit from the depression that was still evident from his wound.

With some care into their steps, Cirié had paused every now and again to make sure that Ruan had been alright, though it was much to the Tiefling's own annoyance at times. While flattered that it appeared Cirié had cared about his wellbeing, Ruan had attempted to tell her that he was fine enough, and that she need not dote on any flinching or pain that he had experienced on their way down the roads.

It was not until they had happened across what looked like a Gnome that had been sitting on a small boulder with his head in his hands. The auburn-haired Gnome seemed to have been muttering something in a hurry… something that vaguely sounded like either gibberish or just riddles that did not happen to make any sense to neither Ruan nor Cirié at this current time. However, once the Gnome had noticed that Cirié and Ruan were passing by, he hopped up and exclaimed several things.

"The Nine be praised, yes indeed! Darkness came by and crippled the day! If only the one touched by the planes, and the one of nature could only see to restore the light of which was taken. Perhaps the maiden of nature could part her leaves to shed the light – o-or mayhap the one touched by planes may peer through the darkness for answers," the Gnome had quickly spoke up, waving his hands this way and that to express himself as he said each word.

Furrowing her brow and giving the expression of uncertainty, Cirié had given a sidelong glance in Ruan's direction before stepping a bit to the side and slightly behind the larger Tiefling. Clearing her throat and avoiding eye contact with the Gnome, Cirié had said, "uh… well… I'm not exactly sure what this Gnome is on about. Do you have any ideas, Ruan?"

"Not really… I'm not exactly the most, erm… fluent in speaking with Gnomes, or many others…" Ruan said rather flatly in response to Cirié. His golden eyes had been watching the Gnome after he had noted the other rogue stepping behind him. Ruan had given a small sigh, knowing at the very least, that Cirié did what she did because she did not want to deal with the possible road obstacle. Of course, Ruan had to push aside whatever annoyances he might have started to feel due to the fact that Cirié was actually a lot nicer than she initially made herself out to be.

"Oh, but please, the unsightly duo of the maiden of nature, and the one touched by the planes must bring light back upon the world!" the Gnome had started to beg, giving both Ruan and Cirié a rather pitiful look. His gaze had turned back to his wagon, which looked rather beaten up and even ransacked, what with the dislodged chests and barrels that could have been seen. Even the mules that had been pulling the wagon looked a little spooked.

"Maybe… he means that _he_ needs help and is asking us in some very obscure fashion?" Cirié mused aloud, attempting to put the pieces together. "I mean… he's clearly in distress, and he just looks like a merchant trying to make his way to the next town or city."

"Ah! The maiden of nature graces us with the winds of truth, she does! Fair maiden and planes walker, if you were to bring the sun back into Jamlamin Foechuckle's wake, then Jamlalin would be as grateful as ravenous dire wolves to a boar's carcass!" the Gnome had graciously exclaimed, his eyes suddenly brightening up.

"Are… you sure you want to help this Gnome, Cirié? I still can't even understand half of what he's implying…" Ruan irritably grumbled, scratching the back of his neck with a frown.

"To be honest, all I can interpret is that I'm the 'maiden of nature', and you're clearly the one 'touched by the planes' – though, that is purely because of common word and interpretation. Other than that, all this stuff about darkness and light being stolen… I just assume that it's about that wreck of a caravan that's behind him," Cirié explained, pointing over to the wagon and mules and directing Ruan's attention toward it.

"So that's a… maybe?" Ruan questioned, hoping that it was.

"It's a maybe…" Cirié confirmed, looking back to Jamlamin and noting the fact that he seemed to have lost some of his enthusiasm. Trying to be somewhat reassuring, Cirié had glanced back to the mules, seeing that they did not look injured, and were still viable as methods of carrying. Thinking it over a moment, the Elven woman then suggested to the Gnome, "… why don't you get what you have left put upon your mules and, uh… I guess have us accompany you to wherever you were heading? It looks like you were headed in the same direction."

The Gnome gave a long 'hm' as he about faced and observed the condition of his mules for that moment. Supposing that it was probably the best course of action for now, Jamlamin had sighed before walking over and digging about in what was left in the wagon's cargo. Judging by his disappointed groan, it really was not that much that appeared to have been left behind or undamaged.

"I'm honestly not sure why you think that bringing him along is a good idea, Cirié. He could spell trouble for us on our way to Neverwinter," Ruan quietly said, having taken the Elven rogue by the arm and guiding her away a couple metres down along the road so as to not be heard by the Gnome merchant.

"Well… if he's a merchant, he could probably still pay us relatively well depending on how much is on him," Cirié attempted to reason, glancing back.

"And if he's been attacked once, there might be a chance that he could be attacked again," the Tiefling replied rather sternly, still keeping his voice at a minimum. Releasing his grasp upon Cirié to fold his arms over his chest, Ruan's tail flicked side to side with a hint of annoyance and agitation.

"It's just to wherever he's headed toward. If we're lucky, he could be stopping and wanting to recuperate as soon as West Harbour." At that, Cirié had looked over her shoulder to watch as Jamlamin had gathered some of his leftover supplies, and had saddled up the mules with bags and other things. While the mules did not appear to be too appreciative, they had little choice in the matter, had had stomped their hooves against the ground in slight protest to the loads now being directly upon them rather than behind them.

"How far away _is_ West Harbour, anyways?" Ruan asked, raising a hand to rub at his forehead to numb whatever headache was coming his way.

"After we get out of this part of the Sword Mountains, it should take about another one or two days… but…" Cirié hesitated before turning her gaze away from Ruan and scuffing her boot against the dirt road. "If we plan on going through, or at least into, the Mere of Dead Men… it might take as long as three to five days. It's really kind of easy to get lost within the Mere without something to at least help with one's direction. Though, I figured that you would have wanted to go through Meredelain to… maybe see your sister again…."

After listening to Cirié's words, Ruan had become silent for a short time before giving a slight nod of acknowledgement to what she said. His soured expression had softened to being a little awestruck. Lowering his hand from his brow, Ruan had looked in Cirié's direction before he sighed and said to her, "I… wasn't aware that that would have been a concern of yours. I'm genuinely touched."

"Yeah, well… I'm not a complete arse," Cirié said, reusing an old statement as she shot a smirk in Ruan's direction. However, the expression was not to last as the Elven woman recollected her own memories of her family, and combined that with her knowledge of both Dayo and Ruan's relationship with one another. With a cough, Cirié went on to say, "I wouldn't want you to… ah… go through what I did."

"Is it what Neidin mentioned with your brother?" Ruan cautiously asked, furrowing his brow some as he expected some backlash in case he had stepped out of line.

"… Yeah. I wasn't really close to my brother, bu—" Cirié started to explain before she had been cut off by the familiar voice of Jamlamin. Recomposing herself and shutting up, the Elven woman had turned back to view the Gnome.

Jamlamin had looked rather content now, and held two sets of reins within his hands. The mules were near packed with certain things that were apparently still within the wagon, or at least salvageable to sell off. He waved rather cheerily to both Ruan and Cirié, and there was a slight bounce to his step as he attempted to catch up to both the Elf and the Tiefling.

"Jamlamin has been able to procure what light he could find. Jamlamin finds himself incredibly grateful to both the maiden of nature, and the one touched by the planes. May I interest the bringers of Jamlamin's temporary sun in many a tale of splendour and wonderment?" Jamlamin asked, grinning from ear to ear. Before either Ruan or Cirié had a chance to decline, the Gnome had started to talk in more cryptic words that bore little to no meaning to either Elf or Tiefling there.

As Jamlamin Foechuckle found himself distracted with the stories he was telling, Cirié had found herself met with a miffed look from Ruan. Though she could not really blame him for being as such, Cirié had offered a meek smile in response before letting it fade and starting forward to continue on their travels toward Neverwinter.

* * *

Several times within the journey, Ruan had made mention of how he wished of Jamlamin to be quiet, and Cirié had to agree that she was on the same page as he was. The entire way, save for when they stopped to camp, the Gnome had been talking and talking. Sometimes about his times within Yartar, other times it was about being in Longsaddle or Triboar, then there were tales of his shenanigans within Waterdeep. Of course, both Ruan and Cirié had done their best to tone out the Gnome, but it had been relatively difficult within the first several hours.

Until a day had passed and the trio had approached the lands of the Mere of Dead Men that Jamlamin had started to quiet down and be more wary of the words he spoke. Of course, the greenish haze that obscured the place was unsettling to anyone that might have wanted to enter. Even the mules had given a bit of fuss and hesitated to travel much further. With much coaxing and gentle treatment from Jamlamin, they had reluctantly continued to follow along.

Already, Cirié had drawn her short swords, and had been more inclined to dual wield her blades rather than only have one drawn. Having watched Cirié as the sound of blades being drawn was heard, Ruan had decided to follow along in example by drawing his own blade.

"What should we expect out here, Cirié? I can only assume that you know what lurks out within these lands…" Ruan asked, keeping his voice lowered once more so as to not attract any unwanted attention by the Mere's residents.

"Oh… just your run of the mill lizard folk… maybe a couple giant spiders and beetles…. Oh, let's not leave out possible dire bears and wolves. One had nearly taken me out the last time I was here to play courier for you and your sister. If it wasn't for the druid that came by and your sister, I wouldn't have returned to Waterdeep at all," Cirié said, only a little bitter at the idea that there was the possibility that they could run into dire creatures.

"Sounds like you have fond memories of Meredelain," Ruan said in jest, raising his brow and having a look of slight amusement appear upon his face.

"Indeed. I miss the picnics I had here as wee ankle biter," Cirié replied, sarcasm rather evident in her voice. "We really should be more quite while passing through the Mere, though. We'll follow along the Mere's roads the best we can on the way to West Harbour, but in the meantime… we either keep our voices to a low, or we risk the possibility of meeting things we don't want to meet. To be frank, I'm not too terribly interested in coming to a close encounter with death again."

"Jamlamin must take the side of the maiden of nature. The cloud of danger that looms overhead would be best snuck under rather than evoking its mighty thunderstorms," the Gnome had piped in with a quieter tone than he had held before.

Ruan could only give a slight grunt to show Cirié that he heard what she said, and from there, the group had travelled without word. The most noise that appeared to have made the group nervous was the fact that the luggage upon the mules was making unnatural sound for the Mere. However, only spiders and beetles had been the ones to meet with the group, and from there, Cirié and Ruan had been able to dispose of the creatures with relative ease.

While Jamlamin had complimented the two that he accompanied, he also kept watch out for anything around them that might have caught on to their location. Tightening his hold upon the reigns that tethered him to his mules, Jamlamin had to pull them along, shushing and coaxing the mules for a moment.

Cirié had glanced back, noting that the Gnome had fallen behind by a couple paces. Deciding to continue on without worrying too much about the merchant for now, the Elven rogue had did her best to see if there was anything that she could spot that was familiar to her. Luckily, some of the structures that she and the others were starting to pass had been recalled from the time she had been seeking out Dayo, or from when she was travelling along with Esther and Filip.

"We've been lucky thus far since we haven't run into anything too dangerous," Cirié stated, her guard momentarily lowered. "The only downside to all of this is that we might have to actually set up camp around here. Not the most ideal location, but if we take some of the necessary precautions, we can at least get some rest before the next morn."

"Of course the most preferred thing to do would be to find Dayo before night has settled upon us," Ruan replied, frowning a bit. He was not too terribly keen on the idea that they would be setting up camp in a noxious looking part of Faerûn.

"Agreed. I am, however, not too sure about the other druids that thrive within Meredelain. Last I was here, the one that I had met before your sister did not seem too welcoming. In fact, they insisted that I leave the Mere and return to Waterdeep rather than stay here any longer at the time," Cirié said, going into some detail about her last visit to these lands.

Suddenly, one of the mules had brayed, kicking and making a fuss as some of the materials that Jamlamin had salvaged had rattled and clanked together upon its back and within its saddlebags. It had made Cirié pale after jumping slightly, and Ruan's first instinct was to face the cause of disturbance with his drawn blade ready for anything to come. In the meantime, Jamlamin had been attempting to calm and coax both mules – while one bucked, kicked, and effectively knocked off several materials from its being, the other had pulled back on the reigns, the whites of its eyes showing.

Cirié's heart nearly stopped as she heard what sounded like low, guttural drum beats and clicking off in the distance. Looking away from the mules and readying her own blade, she had quickly looked this way and that. From the impression she had gotten, the sounds had been surrounding them – though it was uncertain if those sounds were the cause of the mule's panic.

"Ruan, I think one of the mules gave away our position out here," Cirié had quickly hissed, furrowing her brow. She had tightened her grip upon the hilt of her blade as the clicking and guttural noises started to grow louder – it had gotten to the point where both Ruan and Jamlamin had worried expression show upon their faces.

The silhouettes of large, bipedal creatures came into view, and there had easily been about seven or eight lizard folk that had come to surround the small group at this time. Some of them hissed upon their arrival to the scene, though for the most part, it had been continuous clicking and drumbeat noises that resounded through the air. Overall, it was a sight that easily made Cirié uncomfortable, and Ruan look to the Elven woman for her thoughts on the matter.

"They… should be weak enough for us to take them on down here…" Cirié had said, a little uncertain if their small group could have actually been a match for them. The merchant that accompanied them did not seem too reliable in terms of battle, after all. The most that he could have done was have the mules kick and buck to fend off any enemies that were to have come near – and given the fact that they had been used as carrying the merchant's burdens, it was doubtful that they would have been really good in the ways of movement.

Before there was even a chance at getting to move for Cirié or Ruan, two of the quicker lizardfolk had rushed in through the green mist, their weapons drawn. They had been more decorated than the others that had been around, leaving it only to assumption that they were of higher ranking within whatever clan they were a part of. One lizard had feathers around its neck; the other had a collection of bones upon its head.

Luckily, Ruan had been able to tumble out of the way quickly enough as the feathered lizardfolk rushed in with its club. With its failure, the decorated lizardkin had issued a series of clicks as it hissed with agitation.

Meanwhile, the second lizardfolk had taken advantage of Ruan's predicament and thrust the javelin that it carried forward. Much to the other lizardkin's dismay, the Tiefling had only scraped Ruan's side, cutting into the leather and nicking the dark-skinned individual's abdominal area. The Tiefling had brought his free hand to his side quickly as the warmth of blood had started to trickle down along his body.

Having entered a combative stance, Cirié had made a dash for the lizard man that held the javelin. With decent enough precision and finesse, the Elf had been able to actually land a blow to the brown lizard that had cut Ruan. As Cirié's short sword had been slashed across the lizard, it had staggered backward with a screech and had tightened its grip upon the weapon it wielded.

While the others had been preoccupied, Jamlamin had to keep an eye upon the mules who had been relatively spooked from the scent of fresh blood and the action that had been going on between the lizard men and both rogues that were engaged in combat. There were some panicked snorts and Jamlamin had even tried continuing to coax and calm the beasts of burden.

As this had been going on, more of the lizardkin had moved in on the group, one of them having tripped over its own feet in the process of its excitement. This had only acted to startling the mules further, and one had actually managed to break free of Jamlamin's grasp – its eyes were wide with fear, and it had turned to run away. There was a yell of both surprise and disappointment as Jamlamin watched the other mule run off into the darkening green mist. Within Jamlamin's own sense of panic and surprise over one of the mules having escaped, the other one had tugged back hard enough to topple the Gnome onto his belly before getting loose and following after the other mule in fear.

Once Ruan had been able to gather his bearings on the situation happening around him, he had gripped his sword a little more securely within his hold and brought himself back up to his feet. Locking eyes with the lizardman that Cirié had attacked and wounded rather badly, Ruan decided to finish the deed. It had taken one swift strike, and the lizardman had fallen against the ground, blood pooling and mixing with the damp mere floor.

This had incited a mixed response from the other lizardkin that had waited for an opportune moment. The other four that had been able to close the distance between themselves and the other three individuals had readied their weapons or claws. Just as Cirié had looked over, one of the lizards that had rushed in behind her had made the attempt to rake its claws across her back.

The most that had happened was Cirié being pushed forward and causing her attention to turn to the other lizard that seemed to have growled with frustration. However, with Cirié's change in attention, another one of the lizardfolk had taken advantage of it, swinging its club around and hitting her pretty squarely in the shoulder. While the blow did not feel too impressive, it had caused the female Elf to grit her teeth and tighten her grip upon her blade.

"Cirié, are you okay?" Ruan asked, having glanced back just in time to see one of the lizards attack his travelling companion. This had also given him enough time to take a couple steps back in a hurry to avoid one of the other attacking lizards that appeared to have focused its attention upon the taller Tiefling man.

"Fine, I think. Nothing feels broken," Cirié managed to reply with equal haste. However, the next attack upon Cirié had only just grazed her, the only thing having been heard was the fabric of her cloak being ripped. There was evident irritation within Cirié's voice as she then said, "damn, these things may not be too terribly smart or strong, but they are annoying when in groups."

With Ruan's attention focused upon Cirié, the more decorative lizardman that had attacked at first had lunged forward, putting more of his weight into swinging the club it carried. The blunt weapon had crashed into Ruan's side, causing a rather visible stumble and making the Tiefling curse as he caught himself not a moment too late.

Cirié had been surrounded by three other lizards, and had directed her attention upon the one that had made the attempt to get a sneak attack in. Taking a moment to draw the dagger from her bandolier, the dark-skinned Elf had entered her dual weapons stance as she took two swings for the lizard. Her dagger had done nothing but bounce off the thick, scaly hide of the creature, but her short sword had managed to cut relatively significantly into its flesh.

The one lizardman that had fallen had pushed itself up onto his legs before running awkwardly into the fray. However, its attention had been focused upon Jamlamin as the Gnome had taken to more cowering for the time being – after all, the smaller individual had little in the way of weapons. Anything that would have proven useful to the man had been upon the mules that took the time to make a break for it after having gotten free of Jamlamin's grasp.

In the meantime, there had been several attacks that had been exchanged between the other lizards that still stood and had their focus upon both the rogues of the travelling party. Cirié had been stabbed into twice, blood flowing from her shoulder and abdominal area. The other lizardkin had managed to lose its hold upon its weapon, the club flying across the immediate area and landing with a '_splech_' a good distance away.

Ruan had only suffered another attempt at a blunt attack, though had been pretty lucky in the sense that the lizards' direct attacks had given him enough insight to simply either move or parry the attacks as they came.

The sound of some clinking and clanking against one another had caused both Ruan and Cirié to look up momentarily. The Elven woman only needed to squint a moment as she noticed yet another set of silhouettes within the green fog that lingered over the mere. It seemed that the sounds had caused some of the lizardfolk to stop and listen as well, but there was the other couple that kept their attentions upon their targets.

Unfortunately, the lizardkin that had been focused upon Jamlamin had attacked, its claws managing to sink into Jamlamin's skin and tearing at it a couple times. The Gnome only issued a small yelp of pain, though it appeared that he really was not _that_ phased by what had just happened. He clutched at his arm where the wounds were now apparent, but it did not look like he was in any immediate pain.

Ruan had slain another lizardman without too much trouble and then took a step more toward Cirié in order to help her with her lizard problem. However, this had instigated a perfect attack opportunity, and the Tiefling had been cut into as well, deep gashes shown through the tears in his leather armour now. While he did not look as in bad of shape as Cirié, it was clear that he was still hurting.

As the attacks went on, one of the lizardmen had rammed his claws into Cirié hard enough to where the Elven woman had dropped her weapons and crumbled to the ground. She had passed out due to the shock of the attack and the bad condition that she had already been in after the attacks already. Seeing Cirié crumble to the ground, however, did made Ruan rather upset as he furrowed his brow and tightened his grip upon his sword.

None of the other lizardkins' attacks had been enough to hit Ruan as he ducked and weaved through attacks, though it was left to Jamlamin's speculation that the lizard people appeared to have been being sloppy. Either that, or Ruan had been a lot more limber than he had initially thought.

With another swing of Ruan's enchanted blade, one of the other lizardfolk had been felled, and there had only been four that remained; three that had their full attention upon Ruan now that Cirié was no longer an issue, and the other that had its attention settled upon the Gnome, Jamlamin. There had only been a momentary pause in actions before the lizard that stood close to Jamlamin had slashed twice again at the Gnome, dealing more damage and causing the smaller being to topple over backwards.

The figure that had been safe within the cover of the haze had come out of her cover, followed along by the two mules that had gotten away from Jamlamin. Judging by the looks of things, both creatures had been thoroughly calmed. The other humanoid looking being that had approached seemed to take pause as her gaze fell upon Ruan, though she had pulled the sickle from her side, and as she did so, there was a visible movement from under her robes.

Noting the arrival of his mules, Jamlamin had done his best to scurry away from the lizardkin that had been attacking him and get to where the mules were. Unfortunately, the Gnome had been caught and bitten down upon, causing a very audible cry of pain.

Distracted by the other lizardmen, Ruan had not noticed the arrival of the new person, or the mules in the area. Instead, he had made the attempt to continued slicing down the other opposition all while standing close to Cirié's limp body upon the ground. His expression was that of anger, and it seemed to only get worse as his blade had not been able to pierce through the lizard's armour at this time.

Much to Ruan's luck, his deft footwork had made it so that he had been able to avoid much of the attacks, though it did not look good for Cirié as it seem that her bleeding would not stop when the Tiefling could actually take a moment to look down to make sure he had not been endangering the Elven woman's life further.

The other humanoid had come forward into even clearer view, and had revealed herself to have been a very familiar face. Dayo, the druid Tiefling, had been the one to come forth, her sickle drawn to attack the lizard in front of her. The curved blade of the sickle sunk deep within the unprotected parts of the lizardman's back, and it had stumbled forward with a ghastly hiss.

"Dayo..!? You should stand back!" Ruan exclaimed, surprised by the fact that his sister was within the same vicinity as he. Though there was a moment of happiness within his mind, the male Tiefling had turned to direct an attack at the lizardman that Dayo had cut into. It required little effort on Ruan's part, because the lizardkin had crashed to the damp ground as it gurgled on its own blood in its last moments.

"Worry not about my safety, brother. The Elf woman needs more assistance than I do – just keep your focus upon the abominations of the mere," Dayo had said, being rather direct in her speaking. Now that the lizardman that would have been of any worry had been cut down, Dayo had taken the opportunity to slip behind her brother and kneel alongside Cirié.

With the other two lizardfolk that had been focused upon Ruan, it had not been long that the male Tiefling's attention had to be redirected from his sister to avoiding two attacks. One of his parries had cut into one of the lizard's hands, effectively lopping it off and causing the lizard man to screech out in agony.

Dayo had placed her sickle next to her and quickly rolled up her sleeves – taking some precautions and then running her hands over top Cirié to determine where the wounds were located, Dayo then muttered some incantations. The female Tiefling's hands glowed with a certain green vibrancy, and some of Cirié's cuts and bruises had cleared, and her pained expression had turned to that of indifference in her unconscious state.

As this had gone on, the other lizard that had lingered over Jamlamin had lunged forward for another snap at the Gnome's neck. It had ended in failure, though the Gnome's panicked yelps and cries had caught Dayo's attention as she laid Cirié back down upon the ground with some care. Grabbing her sickle, the smaller Tiefling had started for the lizardkin that had Jamlamin pinned to the swampy floor.

Before Dayo had been able to get ready to attack, she had paused as the lizard rushed in again, this time biting down upon Jamlamin's shoulder. The druid's attention had darted to Ruan as her brother had issued a rather loud gasp of pain. Clenching her jaw, Dayo brought her free hand up suddenly in her brother's direction, a small, thin object being released from her robe's sleeve.

"Cavil, help my brother," Dayo had spoken as the object had landed upon Ruan's shoulder. Without missing a beat, the thing slithered and lunged for the lizard that had been standing closest to the tall Tiefling. It had sunk its fangs deep into the lizard's exposed and softer underside. Combined with the bite, the lizard had been poisoned severely enough in a vital area to where bodily paralysis and then death had come quickly.

"Ah… yes… it's good to see you still keep your… snake friend around…" Ruan had said, not too thoroughly impressed with the rather large black viper that had pulled its teeth from the lizard it had bitten. However, if there was something that Ruan was not going to do, he was definitely not going to complain over the fact that the snake – Cavil – had been able to take down the other lizardman.

"He seems to be more useful than you at current," was Dayo's snap back response as she made an attack for the lizard that seemed to continue harassing and attacking Jamlamin. The most her sickle did when she attacked, however, was just cut the beast on the cheek – only making the blood bead out before falling down its face in streams.

This had garnered the lizard's attention, and it had turned its head in Dayo's direction; hissing menacingly at the druid, the lizardkin had backed up off the Gnome and looked to the druid with malice in its gaze. Snarling a bit in retaliation, the creature had kept a steady gaze on the female Tiefling for now. All the while, it had not really noticed the Gnome that had managed to slowly edge himself away and more toward the mules that had been brought back with Dayo.

All the while, Ruan had been able to cut down the other remaining lizardkin. However, before he could really care for Cirié, he had turned his attention to the lizardman that had its attention upon his sister. Closing the distance, Ruan did not have enough time before the lizard had leapt forward and swung down upon Dayo with its two claws.

Dayo emitted a loud cry as the claws had been dug down into her skin and raked down along her body. Deep cuts had lined the druid's torso area, and blood had dripped down into the fabric of her clothes. Only taking a quick glance to her body, the female Tiefling had reacted almost instantly, bringing up her sickle to attack back. The unfortunate part about this was the fact that the lizardman had leapt out of the way and gave a little cackle.

Meanwhile, as Jamlamin had been able to get back up on his feet and gain some distance, he had approached his mules. Glancing back, the Gnome had watched Ruan make a swipe for the lizard that had him pinned originally… though it seemed that the Tiefling's efforts were in vain as the steel blade had been parried and Ruan had been met with a clawed attack to the face.

There were another few missed attacks, though it was more than enough time for Jamlamin to retrieve one of the bows from his mules and get it readied for an attack. The arrow soon flied through the air, and it pierced through the lizard's armour and into its chest. For a moment, the Gnome had paused, wondering if his arrow had done anything at all.

Soon enough, the lizard had fallen to the ground, and both Dayo and Ruan had been able to relax their grips on their weapons, putting them back upon their persons. Cavil had returned to Dayo, and her brother had immediately turned his attention to the Elven woman who lay upon the ground. Scooping her up into his arms, Ruan turned to his sister with Cirié in his grasp.

"We need to get somewhere safe. I assume that you have some kind of abode within these lands?" Ruan had asked, furrowing his brow as he held the Elven woman semi-protectively. "Cirié will need some time to heal this evening… plus, we'll need to take the time to rest for the time being after the injuries we've received."

"… Y-yes… you'll need to follow me deeper into the mere, however…" Dayo replied, taking a quick look back to Jamlamin, who had been coaxing his mules and putting away the bow he had grabbed from one of them.

"That's fine," Ruan simply replied, adjusting his grasp upon the Elven woman he deemed as 'friend' and sticking close to his sister as she led the way once everyone had been ready.


End file.
